


My Lonely Days Are Through

by Sokkas_First_Fangirl



Series: I Lay My Life Before You [7]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (also kind of minor but it's there), (it's minor but it's there), Alpha Brian, Alpha Roger Taylor (Queen), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety Attacks, Beta John Deacon, Bonding, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Discrimination, Don't copy to another site, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Omega Freddie Mercury, Omega Verse, Pack Cuddles, Pack Dynamics, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), Protectiveness, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Harassment, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-03-17 10:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 31,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18963262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl
Summary: The Queen boys were known for their cuddle piles. It wasn't something they ever questioned- it just came naturally. It made them feel safe. It reminded them that they were a family.Otherwise known as a glimpse at Queen's cuddle piles throughout the years.





	1. Roger: You Will Be Found

**Author's Note:**

> So...This happened.  
> Funnily enough this first chapter was something that got deleted from the Finale-in-progress (only I changed it from Fred's POV to Roger's). It sort of spiraled from there.
> 
> So, here we go: the first cuddle pile they ever had. No John yet unfortunately, but he'll be here next time.

**London, England, September 1970** **  
** **_“Well, let that lonely feeling wash away. Maybe there’s a reason to believe you’ll be okay. 'Cause when you don’t feel strong enough to stand, you can reach, reach out your hand...And oh, someone will come running. And I know, they’ll take you home…” -You Will Be Found,_ ** **Dear Evan Hansen**

 

It was amazing just how fast Roger’s brain started saying _Pack! Protect!_ whenever Freddie was near. They’d only been working together for two weeks and already Roger’s instincts were screaming at him to look after their resident Omega; already, Roger looked at him the way he looked at Brian.

 

The cuddle piles were a surprise all around.

 

Sure, he and Brian had hugged plenty of times: Roger had fallen asleep against Brian more than once and vice versa. But lying awake and cuddling? Cuddling until they fell asleep? Not likely. It wasn’t that they loathed the idea; it wasn’t that they were both Alphas. It was just that the idea had never occurred to them.

 

Then, one night after a late rehearsal that had stretched on even later than they’d anticipated, Freddie realised he didn’t have enough money for a taxi back to his flat. Roger had left his wallet at home and Brian had a fiver in change. Combined with Freddie’s money it still wouldn’t be enough. Normally Roger would just offer to drive him, but the rehearsal space was so close to his and Brimi’s flat that they’d walked. Freddie had gotten the tube, which was now closed. The last bus had left an hour ago.

 

Freddie looked down the dark street, biting his lip. It had started to rain and he pulled his scarf further up his neck. “Better start walking,” he said, resigned. The type of resigned that suggested he’d walked home alone at all hours before. It sent a chill down Roger’s spine.

 

Maybe he was being daft, being so protective so fast, but there was something so damn _sweet_ about Freddie. From what little information they’d gotten from him they knew he lived alone. When Brian had asked about his family, Freddie had smiled sadly, avoiding eye-contact as he said, “I don’t really have one anymore, darling.” So they knew there was no one looking after him, or looking out for him, what have you.

 

And that, Roger decided, just wasn’t okay.

 

So as Freddie turned to start walking Roger grabbed his arm. “Don’t be daft, mate,” he said. “You can stay at ours, okay?”

 

“Are you sure?” Freddie asked, uncertain eyes flickering between Roger and Brian.

 

“As if we’re letting you walk home at night,” Brian said.

 

For all his bravado Freddie noticeably relaxed as he accepted their offer. Without thinking about it, Roger linked arms with Freddie then with Brian, hurrying them both along.

 

“Good, now let’s get out of this poxy rain, yeah?”

  
  
  
  
  


As luck would have it, it started to absolutely _lash_ and their walk home quickly turned into a run.

 

Once inside Brian hurried to turn the heat on and start making tea. Honestly, if it weren’t for his Alpha scent Roger would have mistaken him for a Beta at _least._

 

He turned to Freddie and said, “Right, you can take the shower first. I’ll leave some clothes on my bed, okay?”

 

Freddie nodded and hurried away, somehow looking even more drenched than Roger. He wasn’t long in the shower and when he emerged from their cramped bedroom in the pyjamas Roger had laid out, Roger had the sudden and insane urge to just hold onto him and keep him safe. Roger’s clothes were too big for him; the sleeves reached his knuckles and he had to keep rolling the hems of the pyjama bottoms up so he didn’t trip on them. Without his platforms he’d lost about five inches in height.

 

It was daft and Roger soon forgot the urge once he hopped in the shower himself, grateful for the heat.

  
  
  
  
  


Surprisingly they weren’t that tired. There was a good late-night movie on, so the three of them curled up on the carpet together to watch, sipping their tea. Brian had grabbed the duvets from both their beds as well as their pillows. Roger grabbed the cushions from the sofa and the old woolen throw from the armchair. Pretty soon they had a pretty comfortable pillow-and-blanket pile. They were all more than warm enough now, yet they all three pressed close together, Roger sitting in the middle with Brian and Freddie on either side of him.

 

And as the night wore on they found themselves lying down instead, starting to drift off. Yawning, Roger turned the telly off; he wasn’t sure how he’d found himself lying down, an arm around each of his friends, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. Still…

 

“Guys, we should get to bed,” he mumbled tiredly. Brian only hummed in response, turning to rest his cheek on top of Roger’s head. Freddie didn’t respond at all and when Roger looked he realised their new friend was fast asleep. He made soft little snuffling noises, not quite snores- it more reminded Roger of a kitten. To top it all off Freddie was curled up in a ball, his face pressed against Roger’s shoulder.

 

“Guys?” he tried one more time, half-heartedly. This time Brian’s only response was to start snoring.

 

Well, to be fair Roger didn’t want to move either. He was warm and comfortable and he felt weirdly safe, knowing Brian and Freddie were right there in his arms. It made him feel like he could keep them safe too.

 

 _Mine,_ part of his brain purred, which was _ridiculous._ Brian was family no questions asked, but they’d only known Freddie for _two weeks._ Roger was being stupid. His instincts were being pushy and if Freddie knew what he was thinking he’d likely be insulted, if not outright freaked out.

 

But then Freddie pressed closer to him and Roger’s grip tightened, pulling him in as close as he could. He did the same to Brian and finally, his eyes started to close.

 

“G’night…” he mumbled, though he knew there’d be no answer.

 

And that accidental cuddle pile would start years of cuddle piles: it would start a tradition, something that relaxed them all and made all of them feel that little bit safer.


	2. John: New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen boys go clubbing and John learns some new things he'd rather not know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fellow ladies- have any of you ever had to do the fake "haha I'm so dumb ignore me" laugh just to pacify a pushy guy? IT FUCKING SUCKS JUST TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER.  
> Ahem. Anyway.  
> I always saw John in this 'verse (at least when he's young) not necessarily realising how bad Omegas have it, not until he spends most of his time with one. All this will just serve to make him more protective of Veronica later on, that's for sure.  
> So, TRIGGER WARNING for some sexual harassment, both verbal and physical, as well as victim blaming.

**November 1970** **  
** **_“I wanna live a life from a new perspective. You come along because I love your face and I'll admire your expensive taste. And who cares divine intervention. I wanna be praised from a new perspective, but leaving now would be a good idea. So catch me up on getting out of here.” -New Perspective,_ ** **Panic!At The Disco**

 

Ruts and heats made John glad he wasn’t an Alpha or Omega. He knew that sounded a little daft- who _didn’t_ want to be an Alpha?- but he was quite happy to be a Beta. It was a lot less mess. It was a lot less discrimination he didn’t have to worry about- discrimination he didn’t even really _think_ about until he joined _Smile-turned-Queen._

 

Freddie was an Omega but John, in the month-and-a-bit they’d been friends, had never stopped to think about what that _meant._ He knew Roger was almost stupidly protective of Freddie, but he’d never seen a protective Roger in rut.

 

It was one hell of a mess.

 

It must have been a particularly bad rut, because Roger even growled at _Brian_ when he offered Freddie a hand out of the taxi. Brian only raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Freddie tapped Roger on the nose, smiling.

 

“Down boy,” he said, taking Brian’s hand.

 

It was just a night out, just another Saturday at the club, but it sure showed John a lot in hindsight.

 

First things first: one of John’s nicknames was “Disco Deacy” for a reason. He loved dancing. A lot. He just loved to finally get out of his own head and forget all his worries for a while- to just let go and have _fun._ So, tipsy, he asked the others to come dance with him.

 

Roger knocked his drink back but declined, gesturing the bartender over for another. Brian, still nursing his second drink, shook his head. But Freddie hopped off his stool with a smile. “Sure, darling,” he said brightly, having to almost shout to be heard over the music. Grinning, John hurried to the dance floor, Freddie right behind him.

 

And the thing was John knew Freddie was- well, he wasn’t sure exactly. He wasn’t traditionally handsome like Roger or towering and elegant like Brian, yet he drew everyone’s eyes to him simply by walking into a room. He was _alluring,_ charismatic- _sexy,_ though the thought made John blush.

 

And he sure as hell knew how to work his hips.

 

As they danced John suddenly felt like they were being watched, and not in a good way. One quick glance to the left showed him that, across the room, a _huge_ guy was staring at Freddie. He looked even taller than Brian, bulky and muscular. His arms were folded, drawing John’s eye to the tattoo on his forearm- a twisting black flame design. His eyes were narrowed, he looked almost pissed off.

 

John had the sudden urge to keep Freddie out of the guy’s line of sight. He made himself keep smiling as he took Freddie’s wrist and spun him around; his smile turned genuine when Freddie laughed at him. For the next few songs John forgot all about his unease. He was just wondering if they stood a chance of dragging Brian and Roger onto the dancefloor with them when there was a sudden _slapping_ sound, so loud that John heard it over the thumping music.

 

Freddie yelped and spun around- and sure enough, there was the guy from earlier, smirking down at Freddie.

 

Wait a second. Had that guy just…?

 

“Can I _help_ you?” Freddie demanded furiously. His cheeks were burning red, his eyes blazing, but he took a step back from the guy, pressing back into John.

 

Had that guy seriously just…?

 

“You can come dance with me,” the guy said, still smirking.

 

“Fuck off,” Freddie scoffed. He turned away, but the guy grabbed him, wrapping an arm tightly around his hips.

 

“Feisty,” the guy purred. “I like it.” He snickered and his scent finally reached John: just as he’d suspected the guy was an Alpha. A pretty drunk Alpha at that. “Bet I can spank the attitude out of you. Come on, ditch the Beta and come with me.” His other hand landed firmly on Freddie’s ass again, squeezing and pulling him closer. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

 _“Get off me!”_ Freddie shouted, trying to pry the guy off him and John finally unfroze, shaking his head as if to physically shake his shock away.

 

“You leave him alone,” he snarled- or tried to. He hated how weak his voice sounded. The Alpha certainly wasn’t intimidated. He only scoffed and when John, shaking, went to grab Freddie back the guy easily shoved him away.

 

“Deacy!” All fear left Freddie’s eyes. Now he looked furious again. He started thrashing against the guy. “Let me _go!_ ”

 

John, petrified, could only wonder why no one else was helping. They were in the middle of a crowded dance floor, why wasn’t anyone _doing_ anything? Wasn’t it obvious they were in trouble? Wasn’t it obvious they needed help? Fuck, where was security, where were-?

 

_“GET THE FUCK OFF HIM!”_

 

Ah. There were Roger and Brian.

 

If Brian looked furious then Roger looked _murderous._

 

In a flash they were across the room, pushing through the crowd with ease; no one would dare get in the middle of two pissed off Alphas, let alone one in rut.

 

Finally, the Alpha guy seemed to understand just what a huge mistake he’d made. He let go of Freddie, albeit reluctantly, and held his hands up in a _it’s not my fault_ gesture.

 

“Hey, look man, I didn’t knew he was- FUCK!”

 

Roger socked him clear in the face; there was a _crack_ and blood started gushing from the guy’s nose. Brian was holding Freddie to his chest, snarling; with one sweep of his arm he pulled John to his side, holding on tight.

 

“You’re both alright?” he asked, low and furious, but not with them.

 

“I- I’m alright,” John said, watching with an awed sort of horror as Roger tackled the guy to the ground, still hitting him. The guy was at least 6’4” but it looked like Roger was _winning._

 

“Fred?”

 

“I’m fine, I just- oh _fuck,_ Rog, _STOP IT!_ ”

 

By now two security guards were trying to pull Roger away. John didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so angry before. Fuck, was the huge Alpha missing a _tooth?_ A second glance showed John that Roger had indeed managed to knock the man’s tooth out; his nose was bleeding even more heavily than before; his lip was burst, his eye was starting to swell shut, his tooth was missing; bruises were already starting to form on his face; there was a nasty scratch mark down his cheek.

 

Freddie pulled free from Brian and ran to Roger, holding the snarling Alpha’s face in his hands.

 

“Rog? Roger, look at me- I’m okay. See, darling? I’m alright.” He was clearly struggling for calm; his chest rose and fell rapidly. He was smiling but to John he looked seconds away from crying, horribly embarrassed; his eyes watered, his smile trembled, but his hands were steady as he stroked Roger’s hair back and ran his thumbs back and forth over Roger’s cheekbones.

 

“I’m alright,” he repeated. “I’m not hurt, see?”

 

“You’re his?” one security guard demanded gruffly. Freddie didn’t hesitate to nod and say, “Of course.”

 

The second security guy sighed tiredly; a third and forth were helping the injured Alpha off the floor. “He probably couldn’t smell the scents in here,” he said. “Too crowded.”

 

“Yes,” Freddie said, still smiling that fake, sickly sweet smile. “Just a misunderstanding.” He gave a false little _ha-ha,_ a silly little laugh that seemed to suggest _Don’t mind me, I’m such a ditz!_

 

John found he hated that laugh, that smile. He hated this whole shitty situation. Why was the first security guard lecturing _Freddie_ about wandering away from his Alpha? Why was he being lectured about dancing with anyone else other than his Alpha?

 

Why were they making this sound like _Freddie’s_ fault?

 

Sighing, the second security guard released Roger, shoving him towards Freddie. Roger immediately had Freddie wrapped in his arms, leaning down to bury his face in Freddie’s neck. To anyone who didn’t know them they _could_ be mistaken for a couple, John supposed- and that was what got them out of there.

 

The other Alpha was dragged away, the fourth security guard saying something about getting him a doctor and _Queen_ were told to head home.

 

The whole taxi ride home Roger clung to Freddie, nearly pulling the Omega into his lap. Brian was tense as hell, grinding his teeth and clearly making an effort to not shout.

 

And John couldn’t tear his eyes away from Freddie and Roger, trying not to panic, trying not to cry.

 

_What the hell had just happened?_

  
  
  
  
  


The second they got back to Brian, Roger and Freddie’s shared flat, Freddie made for the sofa. Roger was right behind him and as soon as Freddie sat Roger was wrapped around him, one possessive hand on Freddie’s hip. He buried his face in Freddie’s neck, his nose pressed right where his neck met his shoulder and breathed deeply. There was tension in every pore of him, he was near trembling with anger. Sighing, Freddie tilted his head back, allowing Roger better access; he ran his hand through Roger’s hair again and again.

 

“It’s alright,” he said softly. “Roggie, I’m okay.”

 

Roger made no answer. His grip tightened so much that Freddie winced and that alone seemed to finally snap him out of it. Some of the tension left him, his grip loosened and he mumbled, “You okay, Fred?”

 

“I’m alright, darling, I promise.” Sighing, Freddie turned to John. “Are you alright, dear?”

 

And _that_ finally snapped _John_ out of it.

 

“Does that happen a lot?” he asked, totally aghast. He could feel his hands starting to shake.

 

Freddie shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding eye-contact. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said. He gave that awful fake laugh again. “You know what some Alphas are like.”

 

No, no he didn’t. He hadn’t. Not until now.

 

“I’m sorry,” John said. He felt like crying. Even Brian giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze didn’t help.

 

“Whatever for? Deacy, darling, you didn’t do anything-”

 

 _“Exactly!”_ John burst out. “I didn’t _do_ anything, I just _froze!_ I should have done something!”

 

“Like what?” Freddie asked, raising an eyebrow. “Darling he was twice your size.”

 

“And three times yours! Fuck, Freddie, this isn’t _okay!_ ”

 

“I know that,” Freddie said calmly, a little sadly and it tore the fight from John. He collapsed onto the sofa next to him, pressing in close until Freddie’s free hand reached up to run through his hair too. Brian sat on the arm of the sofa, hand resting on John’s shoulder. He looked exhausted when John looked at him; pale and drooping, all the anger drained from him too.

 

“I’m sorry,” John mumbled again; he was sorry for not defending Freddie, sorry it had happened at all, sorry that Freddie seemed _used_ to it.

 

“It’s not your fault, darling.”

 

“It’s not yours either,” Brian suddenly spoke up. “Or yours either, Roggie, you hear me?”

 

Roger made a noise somewhere between a whine and growl, but at least he wasn’t arguing.

 

They sat in silence for a while until Brian abruptly said, “Right you lot, bedtime.” John could have laughed at how much he sounded like a _mum,_ but that was Brian for you.

 

They went to Brian and Roger’s room, all four of them; Brian pushed the two beds together and soon enough they were all curled up together, pressed in as close as possible to avoid falling off the edge. Roger was spooning Freddie; his grip had finally loosened to something normal, his breathing was smoother and he wasn’t so tense. He clearly wasn’t _happy_ but he didn’t seem seconds away from exploding either.

 

John hesitated for a moment on _where_ exactly he should lie down until Freddie reached out and pulled him down, holding him against Freddie’s chest.

 

“Stop worrying,” he ordered, calm as anything. “Just try and get some sleep, darling, okay?”

 

And as Brian slid into bed behind him and wrapped his arms around him, John felt oddly relaxed despite everything. He felt _safe._

 

They made an odd group he knew: an Omega, a Beta and _two_ Alphas, but somehow they were perfect together.

 

They already felt like pack, like family.

 

And packs protected each other. John would just have to practice doing so.

 

For now though he followed Freddie’s order; safe, warm and drained he soon drifted off to sleep.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've covered Freddie's heats before but here's some information on Roger and Brian's ruts: as we see here Roger is AGGRESSIVE when in rut- highly possessive/protective and temperamental. The boy's temper becomes a bomb: proceed with caution. As for Brian he gets moody, much more gloomy and huffy, often snapping over little things but never really EXPLODING, not unless something is SERIOUSLY wrong. He's also a lot more clingy, wanting to keep everyone in his line of sight and cuddling up close a lot more often.  
> Freddie may not be "theirs" in the romantic or sexual sense but their instincts, especially during their rut or his heat, recognise that he IS in fact theirs; he's pack, he's family, he's their ONLY Omega. As far as they're concerned they HAVE to protect him- Roger's just a lot more (sometimes worryingly) aggressive about it.  
> All in all I see a lot of Alphas having their tempers effected by ruts; even the most passive of Alphas could become blazing balls of anger during rut if things go wrong.


	3. Brian: Heart Of Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys learn the truth of Freddie's backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Zanzibar Revolution has been moved around in this 'verse- it now takes place in 1971, instead of 1964.
> 
> Shout-out to "ScholarlyBAMF" for the suggestion! Here's the boys learning the circumstances that led to Freddie running away.

**January 1971** **  
** **_“You can build me up, you can tear me down, you can try but I'm unbreakable. You can do your best, but I'll stand the test. You'll find that I'm unshakeable. When the fire's burnt, when the wind has blown, when the water's dried, you'll still find stone. My heart of stone.” -Heart of Stone,_ ** **Six: The Musical**

 

“Rog? Fred?” Brian called. “You home?” He was loaded down with groceries. Deacy, right behind him, wasn’t doing much better. He supposed this was a lesson to do the shopping _regularly_ and not just leave it until the last minute.

 

“In here,” came Roger’s voice from Freddie and Deacy’s room- and instantly, Brian felt on edge. Roger sounded _off,_ all hoarse and worried.

 

 _Something’s wrong,_ he thought. Quickly dropping the groceries in the kitchen he hurried down the hall to the bedroom, Deacy at his heels.

 

He was right to be worried: Freddie was fast asleep in Roger’s arms but it was obvious he’d been crying. There were still tear tracks on his cheeks, his breathing still sounded a little uneven, his skin looked clammy.

 

“Did he have a panic attack?” Brian asked, careful to keep his voice down. Deacy was nervously plaiting and unplaiting a strand of his hair, biting his lip. Roger, pale and clearly shaken by _something_ only said, “He...He had some bad news…”

 

“What happened?”

 

Roger went to answer but then he hesitated; his eyes flew back to Freddie and he sighed heavily, lightly rubbing Freddie’s back. “I’m sure he’ll tell you when he wakes up,” he said. There was something new in his gaze; sure he’d always been protective of Freddie- soon after they met, right after Freddie sadly said he didn’t have a family anymore, Roger had railed against how unfair it was.

 

“No one’s looking after him!” he said, time and time again, as if Brian needed it pointed out to him.

 

So yes, he’d always been protective but Brian had never seen him look so _worried_ before, so sad, and yet...Oddly determined. There was a stubborn gleam in his eyes that Brian knew all too well.

 

“Is he okay?” Deacy asked, face the perfect picture of concern with a thin streak of fear thrown in. Deacy knew Freddie got panic attacks but he’d yet to witness one himself.

 

“I don’t know,” Roger said, which somehow frightened Brian more than anything. He didn’t take his eyes off Freddie. “I’m just gonna stay with him for a bit okay? It’s not my story to tell, guys.”

 

Whatever was going on it had Brian feeling very small and frightened already. But short of waking Freddie up and demanding answers there was nothing he could do yet.

 

So he sighed, pushing his hair off his face as he said, “I’ll get a start on dinner then.” He ushered Deacy out of the room with him, quietly shutting the door.

  
  
  
  
  


When Freddie and Roger finally emerged, Freddie still looked like death warmed over. He was slouching terribly and wouldn’t even look at them; he just kept looking at the floor.

 

“Freddie?” Hesitantly, Deacy reached out across the table to take his hand. “What happened?”

 

“I...Remember how I...How I said I don’t have a family anymore?” Freddie asked, head bowed.

 

“Yeah?” Brian frowned, anxiety growing again.

 

“Well, that’s...That’s because I ran away. They’re not dead- or they might be now, I don’t know and- and-” Freddie’s voice cracked, his breathing was starting to hitch and speed up. Brian could see his hands starting to shake, causing Deacy to tighten his grip, holding one of Freddie’s hands in both of his. Roger held his other hand and Brian had no idea what to do. Freddie was crying, silently but steadily and Brian felt helpless, utterly useless.

 

He’d never seen Freddie, bright happy, bubbly Freddie, so sad and small before.

 

“The Zanzibar Revolution,” Freddie whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s in all the papers, it’s on all the news channels...Stone Town’s been _massacred_ and...and as far as I know they were still living there…”

 

“Why’d you run?” Brian finally forced himself to ask.

 

And it all came pouring out.

 

“They arranged a marriage for me out of nowhere. I just came home one day and Papa told me to come into the living room. He said my grandfather in Bombay had the idea and he agreed. They wanted me to marry the son of some family friend- his name was Dazmen Yazadi, he was twenty-three and- and I was seventeen.”

 

Brian felt _sick._

 

 _“Seventeen!?”_ Deacy looked torn between horror and fury. “That’s underage!”

 

“Not in Zanzibar,” Freddie said with a mirthless laugh. “And not in India. Omegas are considered of-age as soon as they have their first heat over there. They felt they were being _generous_ because the wedding was set for the seventh of September, just after my eighteenth.” The tears fell faster, he laughed again, though there was nothing funny at all. “I said no. I told them they couldn’t make me. But Dazmen had agreed, so it didn’t matter. They didn’t need my consent, they just needed _his._ ”

 

“That’s disgusting,” Brian said- and even he was surprised by how ferocious he sounded. _They didn’t need Freddie’s consent!?_ Of _course_ they needed his consent, because otherwise that was- if Dazmen had touched him without consent that would have been- that would have been _rape._

 

 _Oh God._ Not in the eyes of the law it wouldn’t have. Brian had done research before; Omegas had nearly no rights over in India. Some were married off as young as twelve. Many were beaten into submission, either by their families or by their spouses.

 

Freddie caught his eye and nodded, as though he knew what Brian was thinking.

 

“He would have been allowed to do whatever he wanted with me,” Freddie said, voice gone hoarse with horror again. He was starting to shake again, and Roger let go of his hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders instead. “He came over to meet me and- he said we’d have to _fix my teeth_ and when I told him no, when I told him I wanted to be a singer, he just _laughed_ at me. He said I’d be too busy _raising our children_ to chase after childish dreams.”

 

 _Fuck,_ Brian thought. _FUCK._ He couldn’t get the images out of his head; the idea of some _sleaze_ thinking he had any claim to Freddie, thinking he could just walk on in and have him, made him feel sick. The idea of someone just seeing his friend, their Freddie, as some _broodmare_ made him want to hit something.

 

“You know something?” Freddie said. “He’d have been allowed fix my teeth. I wouldn’t have had a say. As soon as we were married I’d have been his to do with as he pleased. No matter how much I said no, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’d have been in charge, completely and utterly. I was terrified, I was furious and no one _cared._ Even Mama said it was for the best. It felt like they just wanted to get rid of me, like they wanted someone to keep me in line. As soon as I presented they started treating me differently. It was like they thought I’d turned stupid and helpless and fragile overnight. They expected me to turn into some sort of human doll and they couldn’t seem to understand why I didn’t want that. Any of it.” He let out that hollow laugh again. “The day I presented, Papa sent me back to my room and made me stay there all day. My whole family are Alphas and Betas, I was the only Omega...And they did their damn best to make sure I knew what a disappointment that was.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Fred,” Deacy whispered, seemingly unable to raise his voice any further. Roger just looked more and more upset.

 

Brian honestly felt like throwing up.

 

“So you ran?” he asked hesitantly and Freddie nodded.

 

“So I ran,” he confirmed. “I packed up in the night, left a note for Mama and Papa and one for my sister and I left. I wrote a little while later...I told them where I was and how to contact me, I apologised for scaring them...And I never heard back from them.” He exhaled shakily, suddenly finding the table fascinating again. "I guess they decided I wasn't worth the bother."

 

“...I can’t believe you were only seventeen,” Roger said, looking at Freddie like he couldn’t quite believe he was real.

 

“I had to do it,” Freddie said, almost like he was reminding himself, or trying to convince himself. “I knew if I gave in I’d die one way or another.”

 

And didn’t that just break Brian’s heart?

 

The next thing he knew, Freddie was murmuring, “Oh, Brimi, love,” and hurrying around the table to hug him. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying until Roger handed him some tissues.

 

“Fuck, sorry,” he choked out, mortified. “Sorry, I just- _God,_ Freddie, I’m _sorry._ ”

 

“You’re sweet,” Freddie said. He cradled Brian’s head gently against his chest, idly patting his hair. “Brian, I’m okay.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Roger said.

 

“...No, I’m not,” Freddie agreed.

 

No, he wasn’t, but damn it all Brian would make sure he _was._

  
  
  
  
  


The funny thing about their cuddle piles, Brian mused, was that they never _said_ they needed one. They just sort of...migrated together. They always seemed to know when at least one of them needed a cuddle pile. Without a word passing between them they’d find themselves in one room, be it one of the bedrooms or the living room and they’d end up curling up together; sometimes it was to go to sleep, other times it was just for comfort.

 

Tonight it was both.

 

Right after dinner, without a word being said they all drifted towards Freddie and Deacy’s room, simultaneously calling an early night.

 

As had become habit by now, Roger pushed Freddie and Deacy’s beds together and the four of them climbed in. Brian spooned Freddie, his hands resting lightly on Freddie’s stomach.

 

Unbidden the image came to him: Freddie, heavily pregnant with this unknown Dazmen Yazadi’s child, miserable and broken down, tiny and alone. It made him shiver, made his stomach lurch- and then Freddie’s hands were on top of his, lightly tapping out a tune.

 

“Love you, Bri,” he yawned.

 

“Love you too, Fred,” Brian said. “All of you. You know that, right?”

 

“Of course we know that, you daft pillock,” Roger teased with some of his usual mischief coming back into his eyes. He lay on his back, Deacy’s head resting on his chest; his arm was around the Beta, holding him close. His free hand idly played with Freddie’s hair, lightly twisting a lock of long black hair around his finger.

 

Soon enough, Freddie and Deacy were fast asleep.

 

“He’ll be okay, Brimi,” Roger whispered so as not to wake them. “I swear, I’ll make sure of it.”

 

Brian, half asleep himself, mumbled, “Huh?”

 

He caught a fleeting glimpse of the sheer fiery determination in Roger’s eyes before his fellow Alpha turned his head away to face the wall.

 

“I promised,” he said, which made no sense to Brian (not yet anyway).

 

Nothing seemed to make sense tonight, but it would soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, walking to work at 6am this morning: I hope Brian May has a nice morning.
> 
> As was covered in Dazmen's story, the reason Freddie never heard from his family is because his grandfather, in a fit of rage, destroyed his letter before it could be read. Unfortunately this led Freddie into thinking his family didn't want him back. Dazmen himself is...tricky. If Freddie hadn't run away, if Dazmen hadn't gotten that wake-up call (that he wasn't oh-so great and important and that Omegas had opinions, ambitions and feelings of their own) he could have/would have stayed that spoiled, entitled Alpha. As it is he DID get that wake-up call and turned into a much better man for it.


	4. Freddie: Keep Yourself Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleepy Freddie is a cuddly Freddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freddie likes cuddles when he's wide awake, imagine how clingy he must be when he's sleepy.

**1974** **  
** **_“Now they say your folks are telling you be a super star. But I tell you just be satisfied, stay right where you are. Keep yourself alive, yeah, keep yourself alive. Ooh, it'll take you all your time and money, honey you'll survive.” -Keep Yourself Alive,_ ** **Queen**

 

Freddie would never fail to be amused by how surprised Reid had been by their cuddle piles. Their manager had just looked so  _ gobsmacked.  _ Considering how in-control he always seemed the naked shock on his face had been hysterical.

 

Maybe if Freddie hadn’t been so damnably  _ tired  _ it wouldn’t have been so funny, but they’d just played a sold-out concert and the encore went on for longer than expected. He’d barely slept in the days leading up to the show, his throat ached no matter how much water he drank, his whole body felt heavy- he just wanted to  _ sleep.  _

 

The second they were in their dressing room he collapsed onto the sofa, curling up in a ball.

 

“Fred?” Brian’s voice was amused. “C’mon, you have to get changed.”

 

“Hn.”   
  
_ “Fred.” _

 

“Bite me, Brimi,” he mumbled, eyes shut. He heard Deacy snort and Roger chuckle; even Brian himself let out an amused huff.

 

And then Roger’s hand was in his hair and his scent washed over Freddie; dark chocolate and oranges.

 

“Tired?”

 

“Hn.”

 

He heard Roger chuckle again as he said, “I’ll take that as a yes.” And then; “Ah fuck it, we have time,” he said as he maneuvered Freddie so his head was resting in Roger’s lap instead.

 

“We do  _ not  _ have time!” Brian protested. “We have to be ready to go back to the hotel in-”

 

“Fifteen minutes,” Deacy chimed in. “Plenty of time.” And with that, Deacy joined the pile, somehow managing to curl himself around Freddie, hanging onto his waist- and admittedly nearly pushing him off the sofa into the bargain.

 

“C’mon Brian,” Roger wheedled. “We deserve a rest.”

 

Freddie opened his eyes; Brian was standing by the door, already back in his street clothes. His arms were folded and he looked somewhere between exasperated and amused. However, one pout from Freddie and a quiet, “Please, Brimi?” had him giving in.

 

“Oh, sod it,” he muttered and quickly joined the pile, resting against Roger, tucking his long legs up to his chest.

 

Freddie was dozing off, all but purring in content when Reid walked in.

 

“Are you boys ready to- what are you doing?”

 

Reluctantly he opened his eyes again. Yep, there was Reid looking well and truly baffled. His eyes went from Freddie to Deacy, to Roger, to Brian. He just looked more and more confused.

 

And it wasn’t  _ that  _ funny, not really, but to Freddie’s knackered brain it was hilarious.

 

He couldn’t help it: he burst into hysterical giggles, pressing his face into Roger’s legs to try and muffle them. It didn’t really help and he couldn’t seem to shut himself up.

 

And his giggles set off a chain-reaction. Within seconds the other boys were all howling with laughter. Maybe they  _ all  _ needed rest.

 

“You’re all impossible,” Reid said. He looked close to knocking himself out to escape them. “Just...Just be ready to go in five, okay?” He hurried away, still looking shocked and embarrassed.

 

Logically Freddie knew why their cuddle piles were a surprise. He was an unbonded, unmarried, completely single Omega, curled up with not one but  _ two  _ Alphas, plus a Beta. Granted, as far as Reid knew he was  _ Roger’s  _ Omega. That likely contributed to the shock- the idea that Roger would let anyone else hold onto him just didn’t fly with some people.

 

Really though, he didn’t see the big deal. Even if he  _ had  _ been dating Roger, Deacy and Brian were his  _ friends,  _ they were completely trustworthy. God, but society could be fussy.

 

Brian could be fussy too, because he was pulling away from them and then tugging on Freddie, ignoring his whines.

 

“Freddie, I know you’re tired, but you can  _ not  _ fall asleep in a leather outfit!”

 

“We’ll cuddle at the hotel, okay?” Roger asked and finally Freddie huffed and pushed himself to his feet.

 

Getting up didn’t necessarily  _ wake  _ him up. He was still struggling to keep his eyes open. As the left the dressing room and rejoined the crowd in the hallway- the roadies and stagehands and electricians and  _ who-even-knew _ \- Roger wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping him upright when he stumbled.

 

“Need a hand, Freddie?” Paul asked, already reaching out.

 

“Not from you,” Roger snapped, holding Freddie even closer. Freddie only snickered in response, mostly on autopilot.

  
  
  
  
  
  


As promised, when they reached the hotel they all collapsed into bed together. Freddie was pressed in between Roger and Deacy, while Brian spooned Roger, one long arm thrown over all of them. Their legs were all tangled together, so Freddie couldn’t even tell which pair of legs belonged to who.

 

“Was a good show,” he mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

 

“It was brilliant,” Roger agreed.

 

“Can I sleep now?”

 

“Go ahead, Fred.”

 

“Hn...Love you, darlings…”

 

“Love you too,” Deacy yawned. He didn’t hear the other two respond; within seconds he was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these dorks.


	5. Roger: Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger's father is an asshole; Freddie comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "astheykissconsume" asked "has there ever been anything even vaguely non-plantonic between any of the boys?" to which my initial response was "Nah" but after further thinking...Hm... ;) I'm gonna say there's been a few "will we-won't we?" moments between Freddie and Roger, as hinted at here. "ayoungmartyr" also wanted some Roger getting coddled- the entire group isn't dogpiling on him yet, but here we get some soft, protective Freddie.

**1974** **  
** **_“‘Cause, baby, now we've got bad blood. You know it used to be mad love. So take a look what you've done. ‘Cause, baby, now we've got bad blood! (Hey!) Now we've got problems, and I don't think we can solve 'em. You made a really deep cut- and, baby, now we've got bad blood!” -Bad Blood,_ ** **Taylor Swift**

 

As soon as Roger got home he stormed past the boys, answering Brian’s, “Hey, how did it-?” with a shouted, “FUCK OFF!”

 

He slammed the bedroom door behind him, struggling to slow his breathing, to just get his brain to  _ shut up.  _ His hands trembled and one glance in the mirror showed him how red he was. Nearly screaming in frustration he threw himself onto his bed, all but clawing at the sheets.

 

Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ Why was he so surprised? Why was he so angry? He should have  _ known  _ this was how it would turn out, it was his own stupid fault for getting his hopes up, he shouldn’t have-

 

“Rog?” Freddie knocked lightly at the door. “Darling, can I come in?”

 

“Fuck off, Fred,” he snapped.

 

It was quiet and he was just beginning to hope Freddie had actually listened to him for once when the door opened. Before he could even open his mouth Freddie crawled on top of him, planting himself in Roger’s lap.

 

“You’re heavy,” Roger grouched.

 

“Liar,” Freddie said, smiling. His eyes were shining with concern, his smile was gentle and kind and Roger just wished he’d fuck off. And he knew he shouldn’t have snapped at Brian, he knew he shouldn’t be snapping at Freddie. They weren’t the problem. But damn it all, this had been such a shit day.

 

“...I take it lunch with your father didn’t go well?” Freddie asked softly.

 

For a moment Roger was torn between pushing Freddie off him or pulling him closer. Upset rose in him again and his hands floundered for a moment before settling on Freddie’s hips.

 

“He’s an asshole,” Roger said, avoiding eye contact, refusing any pity he might see in Freddie’s eyes. “He just started talking about our appearance on the BBC right away- at first I thought he was...was  _ proud  _ or something-  _ fuck,  _ I’m an idiot, Fred, you know that? He immediately started asking how much money we were making, asked if I could  _ help him out,  _ I...I should have known that was all he wanted. I should have known he didn’t actually miss me.”

 

Because that was the thing: Roger had avoided his father religiously since his parents divorced. The man was a terror, one Roger preferred to leave in the past. But he’d contacted Roger’s mum about their appearance on the BBC, asking her to put them in contact. Partially for his mum’s sake, for how  _ hopeful  _ she’d been, Roger had agreed to meet him.

 

And part of him, deep down, had hoped his father was sorry. That maybe he’d missed him and Clare. That maybe he  _ had  _ changed. That maybe, just maybe, they could sort things out.

 

Shows what he knew.

 

“Oh, Roggie…” Freddie said softly. When Roger reluctantly looked at him he was relieved to find no pity there. There was just compassion and concern. Without another word Freddie leaned down to hug him properly, resting his head on Roger’s chest. “I’m sorry,” Freddie said. “He’s an asshole, but that’s  _ not  _ on you, darling, understand? He’s the parent,  _ he’s  _ the one who should be feeling bad, not you.”

 

“I’m an idiot,” Roger sighed again.

 

“No, you’re not. Roger, there’s nothing stupid about wanting your parents to love you.”

 

Finally, Roger gave in, hugging Freddie as close to him as he could, allowing the familiar warm weight of his best friend to calm him. He supposed if anyone  _ would  _ get it, it would be Freddie. They were both stuck with utter dickheads for fathers.

 

Speaking of…

 

“Well, how’d  _ your  _ lunch with your mum and dad go?”

 

“Hm...It went.” Freddie shot him a rueful grin. “They’re not impressed I’m living with two Alphas.” He tilted his head and his hair swished back, revealing the mark Roger had left there only two days ago. “They want to meet the hooligan who thinks it’s acceptable to seduce me and have his wicked way with me before marriage.”

 

“They’re still acting like you’re fragile then?”

 

“A bit…” Freddie shrugged, before facing him again. “They actually do want to meet you though, dear. I need to explain you’re just trying to keep Paul away from me.”

 

Truthfully Roger didn’t entirely trust himself around Bomi Bulsara. He was afraid of losing his temper and taking the man to task for trying to sell Freddie off at seventeen- because no matter what spin was put on it, Roger would refer to it as  _ selling  _ until his dying day.

 

But they really should explain everything to the Bulsaras, he knew. Just as he still needed to explain to his own mum that it was an act, a precaution. He wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant to tell her, really. A little paranoid part of his brain felt that if they said it aloud too often Prenter would hear and  _ know  _ and then God knew what would happen next.

 

And if he was totally honest...Sometimes it was easy to forget it wasn’t an act. Sometimes, like now, with Freddie straddling him, with his neck marked by Roger, with their scents mixed just enough to scream  _ “He’s taken!”  _ to any Alpha with a wandering eye. Sometimes, like now, with his arms wrapped around Freddie, with his hands lowering to Freddie’s hips again, it was weirdly easy to forget…It was one of those weird times where his instincts got mixed up, where they went to war with the logical side of his brain and argued that Freddie  _ was  _ his- look at that mark, he’d staked his claim, he was  _ his... _

 

Without thinking he raised a hand to Freddie’s neck, thumb resting on the mark, rubbing lightly back and forth.

 

“What’s wrong?” Freddie asked. “Is it fading already?”

 

“No,” Roger assured him. “It’s just…” He grinned. “Just a bit weird, you know?”

 

Freddie returned the smile easily. “I know,” he said. Laughing a little, he added, “Sorry for laughing the first time.”

 

“Second time, actually. First time we were both drunk,” Roger pointed out. Humming, Freddie held his hand, linking their fingers together tightly.

 

“...He’s not worth getting so upset over,” Freddie said suddenly. “Your father I mean. You’re better than him, Roggie. You’re so much better than him.”

 

It wasn’t much, but he felt oddly choked up all the same.

 

“Thanks, Fred,” he said.

 

“Ready to go join Bri and Deacy, darling?”

 

“...Can we wait a few more minutes?” he asked and Freddie smiled at him, settling back down again.

 

“Take as long as you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my boys, I love my platonic soulmates so much <3


	6. John: The Greatest Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacy's first cuddle pile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhnnnggggg, I've had a shit day so I needed some fluff to distract myself.   
> First of all my voice is STILL gone and my aunt came over, right? The general conversation turned towards Rami Malek being the next Bond villain, which my cousin and I are excited about (I basically sat there nodding eagerly) when my aunt starts going on about how ugly Rami is and she thinks his eyes are freaky and she just started mimicking him and laughing at his eyes and I just- UGH. I ended up storming out because I couldn't tell her to shut up and stop being fucking racist, because hey, making fun of someone's non-white features ISN'T OKAY GOD DAMN.
> 
> Rant over. Enjoy the fluff. I'll likely be slapping you with angst later tonight if all goes according to plan.

**1971** **  
** **_“Where it's covered in all the colored lights, where the runaways are running the night. Impossible comes true, it's taking over you. Oh, this is the greatest show! We light it up, we won't come down and the sun can't stop us now! Watching it come true, it's taking over you. Oh, this is the greatest show!” -The Greatest Show,_ ** **The Greatest Showman**

 

The first cuddle pile John took part in was after their first real show together. Flying high on the crowd’s excitement, running on adrenaline and the drinks the other students bought them, John just couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He’d known they were good, that they were  _ great,  _ but he’d still been terrified that the crowd wouldn’t like them. That they’d want Tim back, that they’d only cheer for the two Alphas.

 

Sure, there’d been hecklers, but they were quickly shut up- and what’s more, there was only  _ two _ of them. Everyone else, the entire room, had cheered themselves hoarse, even the bar tenders.

 

Which was how John found himself leaning against the bar, laughing and too drunk to care about all the eyes on him. His fond grin grew when Brian, clearly shit-faced, lifted Freddie under the arms and plopped him onto the bar. Luckily Freddie was too drunk to care; he laughed at Brian, burying his face in the Alpha’s shoulder. Roger was clearly enjoying the attention of the  _ five  _ girls that were surrounding him. 

 

All in all it was one hell of a night.

 

They stayed until the pub closed, making an arrangement with the manager, Collin, that they’d come to collect their gear tomorrow since they were all too drunk to drive the van.

 

Originally, John was going to go home to his dorm, but that plan flew out the window- one, the dorm was too far to walk, especially at two in the morning while drunk. Two- The boys wouldn’t even entertain the idea of putting him in a taxi alone.

 

“You’re nineteen!” Freddie protested. “Get a grip, darling, you can stay with us tonight.”

 

So, arm in arm and laughing at every little thing, the four of them staggered back to Brian, Roger and Freddie’s flat. Roger kept tilting his head back and belting random lyrics, Brian started rambling about random nonsense- how he liked one of the bartender’s pink hair and nose ring, he thought she was pretty, how the stars looked brighter than usual tonight, how one of his professors was a total asshole and he agreed with Freddie, they should  _ totally _ get a second cat (Freddie shrieked in triumph at that).

 

Freddie hummed as they walked, giggling at random moments, but for the most part he was surprisingly quiet. When John squeezed his arm, Freddie grinned at him without covering his teeth for the first time.

 

All in all John felt  _ happy,  _ happier than he could recall being right then. Maybe it was the drinks talking but he was suddenly sure they could make it after all.

 

“That really was brilliant,” he said as they reached the flat. “They loved us.”

 

“Too right they did,” Freddie said. “Because  _ we’re  _ brilliant, Deacy!”

 

If he’d been sober maybe he would have questioned how all four of them ended up curled up together on the sofa. But it was nearly half-two by then, he was giggly and riding high and all he wanted right then was to cuddle with his friends, the three he hadn’t expected to get so attached to so quickly. 

 

He curled up small, pressed against Brian’s side; Freddie’s head was in Brian’s lap, his feet on Roger’s. Roger himself was bent over, leaning on Brian’s shoulder, absentmindedly playing with Freddie’s hair. To John’s surprise Freddie reached out and took his hand, holding on tight.

 

Somehow that was what sobered him up enough to ask, “What are we doing?”

 

“Cuddling,” Brian said, eyes shut, head tilted back. “Shush.”

 

“...But isn’t it a little weird?” John asked, though he stayed where he was.

 

“Not at all,” Freddie said, voice muffled by Brian’s lap. “Like Brimi said- shush.”

 

“...Okay,” John said, fighting back a yawn. He shut his eyes, getting comfortable. 

 

Maybe they were right. Maybe it wasn’t weird. Maybe it  _ should  _ have been weird (he was pretty sure that even his liberal-minded mum would be surprised at the sight of them), but...he felt comfortable. He felt safe with them.

 

“Fuckin’  _ awesome  _ night,” Roger yawned. “We killed it.”

 

_ “Shush!”  _ came Freddie and Brian’s voices in unison and John giggled sleepily, basking in their shared warmth, surprised by how comfortable he felt but far too happy to ever question it.

 

He found himself agreeing with Roger: these boys were  _ his. _

 

And one day, he was suddenly sure, they’d take on the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BY THE WAY- I finish up at my job this Friday, woo! After that I'll be on holiday with my friends from the 11th to the 17th, so updates will be slow around then, but I promise to do my best! 💕  
> (Respect Rami Malek or die by my sword)


	7. Brian: Lifeboat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian's in the middle of a depressive episode. His boys try to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time I actually acknowledged Brian's depression beyond a few throw-away lines. Proceed with caution if it could trigger you, guys: self-deprecation and self-hate abound.

**1973** **  
** **_“I float in a boat in a raging black ocean, low in the water and nowhere to go. The tiniest lifeboat with people I know. Cold, clammy, and crowded...The people smell desperate. We'll sink any minute, so someone must go…” -Lifeboat,_ ** **Heathers: The Musical**

 

Brian knew he was worrying his boys silly. He knew he should get up; he should have a shower, get dressed, eat any of the food they brought him. He should speak, he should answer when they spoke to him, he should do something more than nod or shake his head.

 

It had been three days since he left his room. They’d all seen him spiral before. They’d all seen depression come knocking- but never this fast. Never this hard.

 

He was _scaring_ them, he _knew_ that, he should get up get up get up get _up up up._

 

He didn’t move.

 

He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to move. What must it be like for Roger, he wondered, to have to share his room with Brian like this? Scary. He _knew_ that and it wasn’t fair on Roger, or Deacy, or Freddie. They were worried about him. He should tell them he was okay. He should apologise for worrying them. He should call them in and tell them what he was thinking.

 

He didn’t say anything.

 

“Brimi?” There was Deacy in the doorway, smile strained, eyes desperate. “We’re just making lunch, do you want some?”

 

Brian shook his head, looking away to the ceiling again. He heard Deacy sigh, heard the door softly click shut and he was alone again.

 

The problem was that there _wasn’t_ a problem. Nothing bad had happened; in fact things were doing _well._ So why on God’s green Earth was he lying here like some sad sap, feeling sorry for himself over nothing? God, but he was an awful friend, an awful bandmate, an awful _packmate._ He had no reason, no reason at all, to feel so depressed. What right did he have to be depressed when so many people had it worse? God, he was awful, he was well and truly _awful,_ he didn’t deserve those three worrying about him, wanting to look after him. Besides, he was the Alpha, he should be the one looking after _them,_ fuck, he couldn’t even do _that_ right, he was such a goddamn _disappointment,_ he-

 

He was suddenly surrounded by warmth on all sides. Roger and Deacy lay to his left and right, each with an arm thrown over him, squeezing tightly. Freddie was curled up in a little ball, resting his head on Brian’s stomach, delicate hands clinging to Brian’s shirt so tightly his knuckles were doing white.

 

He didn’t even realise he’d started crying until Roger whispered, “It’s okay Bri,” wiping at his wet cheeks with his own sleeve. “You’re alright.”

 

“We’ve got you,” Freddie said, holding on even tighter.

 

And for the first time in three days Brian spoke; “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” Deacy hushed him. “It’s not your fault, Brimi.”

 

“Like you’re always telling us,” Roger added with a wobbly smile. “You can’t help it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“But I-”

 

“But nothing,” Freddie said firmly. _“It’s not your fault.”_

 

“And we love you to bits,” Deacy added, which Brian knew was hard for him. Deacy had never been the most expressive and he _did_ look a little embarrassed, but he held Brian’s gaze, eyes full of conviction. “You always look after us when we’re not doing well. It’s okay to let us take care of you too, Bri.”

 

He wanted to believe them. He didn’t quite, not yet. And he couldn’t quite bring himself to get up and eat lunch, but he let Freddie open the window and plait his greasy hair. He managed to eat half the food Roger brought him and drank the tea Deacy made. That evening he hauled himself into the shower and when he came back the other three curled up on top of him again, holding on tight, keeping him safe.

 

So no, it wasn’t perfect. But he was getting there.

 

It was progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Brian May with my whole entire heart and you'll never stop me.  
> Also, quick note: someone remind me to fit the song "Speechless" from the live-action Aladdin into "Pushing Through The Darkness" or something, because that song went straight on my playlist for this 'verse; it suits Freddie and his fellow Omegas 100%


	8. Freddie: Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the infamous nude photoshoot, all Freddie really needs is to feel safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of "The Likes Of Me Abide" so this may not make total sense without reading that first. To summarise, after Freddie stands up to them in an argument, Sheffield and Foster arrange for him to do a nude photoshoot without his consent, attended pretty much entirely by Alphas- including Paul Prenter. Brian unraveled their plans by going to Reid and persuading him that ALL of Queen should pose naked instead, thereby ensuring they'd all be there to shield Freddie from the worst of the harassment.   
> Funnily enough that one-shot was meant to be THIS chapter, but it spiraled out of control and became it's own story- so here's the aftermath instead.

**1973** **  
** **_“Written in stone, every rule, every word, centuries old and unbending. Stay in your place, better seen and not heard. Well now that story is ending. 'Cause I, I cannot start to crumble; so come on and try, try to shut me and cut me down. I won't be silenced, you can't keep me quiet. Won't tremble when you try it. All I know is I won't go speechless.” -Speechless,_ ** **Naomi Scott (Aladdin, 2019)**

 

The drive back to their flat wasn’t  _ tense  _ exactly. It was more like they were all exhausted; no one was sure how to break the silence.

 

All Freddie knew for sure was that he just wanted to get home, lock the door behind him and keep his clothes  _ on,  _ thank you. Or, more accurately, he wanted to get into his cosiest pair of pyjamas, curl up on the telly and stuff himself with pizza.

 

He could really use a drink right then.

 

As soon as they got back to the flat, Freddie went to his and Deacy’s room, grabbing the fluffiest pair of pyjamas and sock he owned; then he locked himself in the bathroom and ran a bath, pouring in the last of the bubblebath. He took his time with it, allowing himself to relax, slumping down under the water. 

 

So.  _ That  _ had happened. Sheffield and Foster set up a nude photoshoot attended almost entirely by Alphas, attended by  _ Paul,  _ in an effort to humiliate him. To remind him to “respect his betters.” But Brimi had thwarted them. Thanks to him it had become a  _ group  _ photoshoot, all three of his boys barging their way in to protect him.

 

He appreciated it more than he could say. He’d been sick with terror, near tears of humiliation in the week leading up to it. When he realised they were there too he’d nearly broken down out of sheer relief. And it  _ had  _ helped. Once the Alphas present realised Freddie’s supposed boyfriend was there there’d been a noticeable hush.

 

That hadn’t entirely shut them up though. It hadn’t entirely scared them into keeping their hands to themselves.

 

_ There were whispers and snickers from all corners of the room, too many greedy eyes on him. He was hyper-aware of Paul’s lustful stare in particular; it took everything he had to keep still, to not just run back to the dressing room and lock the door. _

 

_ “Freddie can you bend over a bit more?” Mick asked as he adjusted the lens. If he heard the Alpha next to him outright purr he didn’t acknowledge it. Frozen, petrified, Freddie shook his head. _

 

_ “Afraid not,” he said, forcing an airy tone. _

 

_ “Sure you can,” one guy, about Deacy’s age, called out. “You did on stage.” He smirked. “Here, I’ll help.” _

 

_ And Freddie heard his friend mutter, “Dare you to check if he’s wet.” _

 

_ He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from whimpering. Before the man could lay a hand on him, Roger pulled him closer, glaring the guy down. _

 

_ “Go ahead,” he growled. “Make my fucking day.” _

 

_ “Down boy,” Mick called with a laugh. And maybe he’d finally realised there was something  _ wrong,  _ because he added, “You’re fine where you are, Freddie, never mind.” _

 

A shudder ran through him and he sank lower under the hot water. Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck,  _ if that was how bad it was with his boys there, with Roger there, how bad would it have been if Brian’s plan hadn’t worked? What would have happened if he’d been on his own?

 

Paul would have followed him into the dressing room, he’d made that plain. But the others? They pushed their luck as it was. If he’d been alone…

 

Gritting his teeth, Freddie drained the bath. Fuck it, he needed that drink  _ now. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


Roger, bless his heart, had ordered pizza. Freddie searched for the wine and found half a bottle of that disgusting cheap stuff from Tesco, but fuck it, it would have to do.

 

He drained his glass quickly, gripping it so hard he was surprised it didn’t shatter. 

 

“Well,” he eventually offered. “That was shit.” His voice cracked and Roger’s arms were instantly around him, quickly joined by Deacy and Brian. Now that they were home, now that they were behind locked doors, now that they were five-storeys high, he could stop trying to be stoic. Because these three wouldn’t sniff out weakness and laugh at it; they wouldn’t even consider it weakness. 

 

“That was terrifying,” Freddie admitted. He kept shivering, even as he clung to the other three.

 

“You were so brave,” Brian murmured into his hair. “Really, you were.”

 

“...Thanks, darling.”

 

“That won’t happen again,” Roger said firmly, eyes blazing with anger, just as angry as he’d been all day. “I swear, I’ll never let that happen again.”

 

Freddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of what Sheffield and Foster might do when they found out  _ Queen  _ had bested them. But he also didn’t doubt that Roger would do anything short of murder to keep him safe.

 

(And even then he might at least resort to manslaughter.)

 

“It’ll be alright,” Deacy said. His smile was strained, there was an icy glint of determination in his usually kind eyes. “We’re here, Fred. It’ll be okay.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Sometimes they ended up in a cuddle pile with no intention of sleep, even if they  _ were  _ in bed. Now was one of those times; they pushed Freddie and Deacy’s beds together, hunting down every spare blanket they could to make it as soft and warm as possible. To make it feel safe.

 

To make  _ Freddie  _ feel safe.

 

God, but he did love them; he loved them so much it hurt and it was staggering to realise just how far they’d go to keep him safe.

 

Roger held Freddie against his chest, Brian held onto him from behind, while Deacy wrapped himself around Brian. Finally, for the first time in over a week, he relaxed completely.  _ Here  _ he was finally  _ safe.  _ No one in this flat was going to treat him like a sex toy; no one here looked at him like an object.

 

And as he relaxed his temper flared.

 

“I hate them,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “I fucking  _ hate  _ them.” He buried his face in Roger’s chest, trying to breathe evenly past the sudden wave of anger. “They’ll regret this,” he swore. “I’ll make them pay for this.”

 

“They won’t get away with it,” Roger promised. “I won’t let them.”

 

“None of us will,” Brian added. “If they try and pull anything I say we walk.”

 

“Deal,” Deacy said. “We should have walked to begin with.”

 

“No,” Freddie said. “Deacy, darling, we couldn’t-”

 

“We can and we will,” Deacy said, leaning over Brian to look him in the eye.  _ “You’re not a toy.” _

 

“...Well, I’ll just have to remind them of that.”

 

He hid his face in Roger’s chest again, wondering what would happen next. Wondering what Sheffield and Foster would say, or do, when they realised Brian had outsmarted them. When they eventually realised that Freddie wasn’t beaten down from this.

 

_ Big talking, heartless bastards,  _ he thought furiously.

 

And then, suddenly, the thought entered his mind;  _ Death on two legs, you're tearing me apart. Death on two legs, you never had a heart… _

 

He’d have to put it on the back-burner. For now, he just wanted to lie down with his three best friends, his boys, his pack; he just wanted to feel safe for the first time in over a week. 

 

They didn’t sleep, not yet, nor did they talk much after that. But it was the most comfortable he’d been since the photoshoot was sprung on him. It was a complete turn-around. He’d been stared at naked all day, forced into passive poses, sexualised against his will; total strangers had put their hands on him, had made blatant comments about what they’d like to do to him. But now? Now he was surrounded by three people he knew  _ loved  _ him.

 

So he was quiet for now, but he’d come back fighting harder than ever. They wouldn’t beat him down; they wouldn’t take his voice away. The rest of the world had already tried and failed. Besides, Freddie reminded himself, as Brian squeezed him tighter; he wasn’t fighting alone.

 

Still...

 

His hand went to his own stomach as he brooded on the state of the world- and he vowed to himself, that if he ever had a baby and if that baby was an Omega, he'd do anything, absolutely  _anything_ to ensure they grew up in a better world than this. He'd do anything to ensure their voice was heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit like this just goes to show exactly what Freddie and his fellow Omegas had to put up with in the 70s and 80s- especially famous Omegas.


	9. Roger: For Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Maeve's birth the boys just need some quiet time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pro tip: do NOT listen to "For Forever" while looking at images of the Queen boys, I genuinely made myself sad.
> 
> Shout out to "ScholarlyBAMF" who wanted to see the boys' first cuddle pile after Maeve's birth! :)

**1987** **  
** **_“All we see is sky for forever. We let the world pass by for forever. Feels like we could go on for forever this way, this way. All we see is light for forever, 'cause the sun shines bright for forever. Like we'll be alright for forever this way.” -For Forever,_ ** **Dear Evan Hansen**

 

Freddie had to stay in hospital for a week after Maeve’s birth and it took another four days until the other  _ Queen  _ boys all managed to clear their schedules and go see him at home. 

 

They arrived together, Roger having driven them all. Logically, he knew Freddie was fine now; as fine as he could be anyway. But he was still worried. Freddie had hemorrhaged right in front of him, they’d all been so certain that they were about to lose him.

 

By some miracle, by the grace of God, he’d lived. He’d frightened the life out of Roger in the process, but he’d pushed through. Baby Maeve was in perfect health, albeit tiny- and Roger knew that was all Freddie really cared about.

 

Deacy, bless his heart, was holding a pink teddy bear and a huge bouquet of pink roses. “Ronnie bought the flowers,” he explained. Brian also had a little toy for Maeve (a lamb in his case- Roger bought a plush kitten) and like Roger he was clearly anxious; he kept fidgeting the whole drive to Garden Lodge, tapping his legs and biting his lip. They had to drive past a huge crowd of reporters outside the house. The sight of them instantly had Roger bristling with anger.

 

“What the fuck are they still doing here?” he hissed. Seriously, did these people have no shame? Did they have lives outside of harassing Freddie? God damn it, but when they tracked down whichever doctor blabbed about the hemorrhage fists would fucking  _ fly.  _

 

“Vultures,” Brian muttered. Roger thought that was the  _ polite  _ way of putting it.

 

Thankfully inside Garden Lodge itself was surprisingly calm. They were let in by Phoebe, who immediately said, “Oh he’ll love them!” at the sight of the flowers. Joe and Jim were having tea in the living room.

 

“Where’s Fred?” Roger asked.

 

“Hello to you too, buddy,” Joe laughed, but Jim smiled in sympathetic understanding.

 

“Bedroom,” he said. “He’s uh...more sore than usual, so I’ve nagged him into bedrest.”

 

“And what a battle that was,” Phoebe muttered. Roger barely heard him; he was already heading for the stairs. He heard Brian say, “Nice to see you chaps,” before he and Deacy hurried after Roger.

 

As promised they found Freddie in his room; he lay on his side in the bed, leaning over Maeve’s bassinet and lightly waving her rattle, smiling when she reached up. Roger hated to say it, but he looked like shit; still pale as death with dark circles under his eyes. He winced whenever he moved too fast, his eyes drooped with exhaustion...And yet, somehow, he still looked beautiful, so utterly radiantly happy that it made Roger smile despite it all.

 

Freddie nearly died.  _ Nearly.  _ He was still here. Roger still got to keep him.

 

_ “How about we just promise to look after each other instead? None of the Alpha protecting the Omega rubbish. We can both protect each other.” _

 

Still sounded like a good idea to him.

 

“Hey, Freddie,” Deacy pushed past him, beaming. “Ronnie got these for you.”

 

Freddie beamed at the sight of them, setting the rattle aside. “She’s a love,” he said. He definitely sounded knackered and they were all three cautious as they sat down as gently as they could. Roger could see Freddie press his lips together and hold himself stiffly all the same.

 

“So, Jim’s got you on bedrest, huh?” he teased and Freddie rolled his eyes.

 

“He worries too much,” Freddie insisted.

 

“No offence, mate, but you look like shit.”

 

“I’m gorgeous I’ll have you know,” Freddie said, poking his tongue out. Smiling again, he lifted Maeve up, grinning when she gurgled at him. He held her close to his chest and she immediately turned her head to mouth at him. Half-laughing, half-scoffing, he shifted slightly so she was closer to his shoulder. “Oh no you don’t,” he said. “You greedy little madam, you’ve just been fed!”

 

She made a tiny, frustrated noise, but otherwise kept quiet and Roger couldn’t help but grin at her.

 

“She really does look like you,” he said softly. The love in Freddie’s eyes when he looked at Maeve nearly made him want to cry.

 

“I suppose she does,” Freddie said, with a tiny pleased smile.

 

“Can I hold her?” Deacy asked and Freddie nodded. Deacy had to shuffle closer to take her, careful not to jostle Freddie. “Hey, you,” Deacy said to Maeve once she was in his arms. She mouthed at his finger and Deacy grinned. “You’re  _ sure  _ you just fed her, Freddie?” he laughed.

 

“Trust me,” Freddie said, deadpan. “My chest is in bits.”

 

It wasn’t unusual for Brian to be quiet, but when Roger glanced at him he saw just how anxious their guitarist looked.

 

“You’re sure you’re alright, Fred?” he suddenly blurted out. The smiles dropped, Brian looked utterly anguished, but he persisted; “I just...God, I’m sorry, you just look so tired and-”

 

“Brimi, I’m alright,” Freddie cut across him, albeit gently. He looked around at them all and sighed heavily- and had to immediately rest a hand on his stomach when he did. “I’m sorry for scaring you all like that,” he said. 

 

And Roger wasn’t having it.

 

“Don’t be daft,” he said. “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong for fuck’s sake!”

 

“It’s not like you could help it,” Deacy added. 

 

“These things just  _ happen, _ ” Brian said.

 

Freddie stared at them all and said, “Now why does this sound like something you’ve been repeating to yourselves?” At the sight of their guilty smiles he sighed and held his arms out for Maeve. “Give her here,” he instructed. As soon as Deacy handed her over he lay back, cradling her on his chest with one arm. He patted the mattress with his free hand. “Well?” he said. “What are you waiting for? Won’t be much of a cuddle if you all just sit there.”

 

“Are you sure?” Deacy asked.

 

“I think we all need it,” Freddie said and Roger quite agreed. He lay down as carefully as he could on Freddie’s left, pressing in as close as he dared, gently stroking a thumb over Maeve’s rosy cheek. Deacy lay down on the right with Brian throwing one long arm and one long leg over them all; they were soon tangled up as they’d always been, arms and legs linked, heads resting on each other’s shoulders or chests.

 

And they had a new addition; baby Maeve rested calmly on her father’s chest; her brown eyes looked steadily at Roger.

 

“She really is adorable,” Roger said and delighted in Freddie’s grin.

 

“Of course she is, she’s mine,” he laughed. Then, more softly, “I still can’t believe I have her.”

 

“I’m glad you do,” Brian said quietly. For a moment Freddie looked like he was going to cry, and honestly Roger wouldn’t have blamed him. But he blinked rapidly, holding the tears back and gently kissed the top of Maeve’s head.

 

And Roger couldn’t hold it in; “Love you, Freddie.”

 

Freddie smiled at him, smiled at all of them.

 

“Love you too, darling.”

 

They stayed that way even when Jim popped up to check on them; by then, Maeve was asleep and the four of them were talking quietly, more than content with staying that way.

 

Like Freddie had said, they needed it; the reassurance that everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They earned that cuddle pile after the scare they had, that's for sure.


	10. John: Masterpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Ridge Farm tempers flare and cupboards are climbed into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Roger Taylor for being such a chaotic drama queen that he locked himself in a cupboard in defense of I'm In Love With My Car. That song has no business being so catchy. Justice for Roger and his car fucking song.

**Ridge Farm, 1975** **  
** **_“I still fall on my face sometimes, and I can't color inside the lines 'cause I'm perfectly incomplete. I'm still working on my masterpiece and I, I wanna hang with the greatest, gotta way to go, but it's worth the wait. No, you haven't seen the best of me. I'm still working on my masterpiece.” -Masterpiece,_ ** **Jessie J**

 

It had been one hell of a day. First off, breakfast was a fucking disaster as Brian and Roger argued over  _ I’m In Love With My Car  _ and  _ Sweet Lady.  _ Truthfully, John thought they were  _ both  _ being utterly stupid (sue him, but he wasn’t fond of either song so far), but the two Alphas refused to budge on their stances; the argument escalated until Roger swept everything off the breakfast table in a fit of rage.

 

“IS THAT STRONG ENOUGH!?” he shouted. He grabbed the coffee machine, about to fling it across the room when Brian and John yelled,  _ “NOT THE COFFEE MACHINE!” _

 

Thankfully, Roger listened. He still picked up a cold plate of bacon and throw it in Brian’s face though. One look at Brian’s furious face had John booking it out of the kitchen, just as Freddie, yawning and running a hand through his hair, came in.

 

“What’s going-?”

 

“Nope,” John said, tossing Freddie over his shoulder with ease. “Nope, nope, nope, we’re out of here.”

 

“John Deacon, put me down!”

 

“You’ll thank me later,” John promised as the shouting and crashing commenced again. Freddie immediately stopped thrashing.

 

“What the hell are they  _ doing,  _ Deacy?” he demanded.

 

“Being boneheaded Alphas, that’s what,” John said tiredly. He set Freddie back on his feet with a sigh. “Somehow, throwing an Omega into the mix sounds like a bad idea.”

 

“...Good point,” Freddie said, throwing a concerned glance over his shoulder as another loud crashing sound reached them, followed by Brian’s furious,  _ “FUCK YOU, ROGER!”  _ It only served to harden John’s resolve to stay out of it; if  _ Brian  _ was shouting that loud there was no stopping them any time soon. Their tempers were up, their instincts were up; if John walked back into that they’d demand he take sides. If he let Freddie walk into that (let alone when he still faintly smelled like Roger) they’d only get  _ worse  _ as their instincts demand they show off their strength, their ability to protect and provide, in a warped effort to impress the only Omega on the Farm. 

 

Yeah, John was more than glad to be a Beta.

 

Freddie, clearly unimpressed by all the noise, only turned back to John and said, “So, shall we finish practicing the chorus of your song, darling?”

 

Happy to have something else to focus on, and for a bit of peace, John followed Freddie to the recording booth.

  
  
  
  
  
  


They didn’t see Brian or Roger until lunch time. They all but tip-toed into the kitchen; Brian was sitting on the counter, looking utterly exhausted; his hair was a mess, there were food stains all over his clothes.

 

“Darling?” Freddie laid a hand on his arm, looking him over with clear shock. “Are you alright?”

 

“Roger’s an idiot,” Brian said, which certainly didn’t answer the question.

 

Freddie smiled at him all the same. “Hm...Be that as it may, where  _ is  _ he?”

 

Brian pointed at some cupboards.

 

It took a moment for the penny to drop, but when it did…

 

“Oh dear God, you’re kidding me,” John gasped.

 

“How did he even  _ fit!? _ ” Freddie cried. Arms folded, he added, “And why don’t you just drag him out?”

 

“He’s locked in,” Brian said tiredly.

 

“Oh come off it, lovie.”

 

“I’m serious, Fred.”

 

Half-pouting, half-scowling, Freddie marched over to the row of cupboards and kneeled down in front of them.

 

“Roggie?” he said. “What are you doing in there?”

 

“Defending my song,” came Roger’s slightly muffled voice.

 

“And...And you’re actually locked in there?”

 

“Yep.”

 

Silence reigned. Freddie looked as baffled as John felt. 

 

Mature adults. Right, they were mature adults recording their best album yet. Yep. Adults. No bullshit here.

 

“Roger, for goodness sake, how is  _ this  _ defending your song?” John demanded. 

 

“I’m not coming out until I get the B-side!” Roger declared and- uh oh. Freddie swelled, suddenly the height of indignant.

 

“You are  _ not  _ putting that car-fucking song on the B-side!” he snapped.

 

“Then I guess I’m staying here.”

 

Scowling, Freddie took hold of the cupboard’s handles and began to tug. And whether Roger had somehow managed to actually lock the cupboard, or if he was holding it closed from the inside remained unknown, but one thing was for sure; the doors didn’t budge, not even a little bit. Freddie tugged so hard he eventually fell backwards and lay flat on his back, glaring at the ceiling. The sight finally pulled a smile from Brian and John had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

 

“This is daft!” Freddie burst out, sitting back up, glaring at the cupboard. “Rog,  _ you’re  _ being daft! You can’t just stay in there all day!”

 

“Fucking  _ watch  _ me, Freddie!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


True to his word, Roger didn’t move from that damn cupboard. Honestly, John wasn’t sure what to do; were they met to just continue with their work like usual? Were they meant to break him out of there? Were they meant to stay in the kitchen all day and plead with him?

 

John sure as hell didn’t want that car song on the B-side,  _ thank you.  _ It was  _ weird.  _ “Metaphor” his ass.

 

But as the evening wore on, it was John himself who eventually sighed, “We have to give in, don’t we?”

 

“Looks like it,” Freddie said, slumped in his seat, resting his head on the table. Brian, head thrown back to stare at the ceiling, let out a long frustrated groan, but he nodded.

 

“Fuck this,” Freddie muttered. He stomped over to the cupboard and kicked it so hard that Roger shouted, “Fucking  _ watch  _ it!”

 

“You can have the B-side, you bastard!” Freddie snapped. “Now get out of there before you suffocate!”

 

And just like that, Roger swung the cupboard door open with a shit-eating grin.

 

“I knew you’d see reason,” he said smugly.

 

“Fuck yourself,” Freddie said calmly. “Deacy’s my fake boyfriend now, he’s much nicer to me.”

 

“I’ve been told I give good backrubs,” John offered.

 

“Point proven,” Freddie said, flopping into John’s lap with a pout. Roger only continued to grin.

 

“You love me,” he said.

 

“Heaven help me,” Freddie said flatly, but he was starting to smile again.

  
  
  
  
  
  


John supposed the cuddle pile was necessary after all that. As they made their way to Freddie’s room (technically meant to be Freddie  _ and  _ Roger’s room), Paul poked his head out of his own bedroom.

 

“What’re you all up to?” he asked. “Thought I heard shouting.” Really if John didn’t hate him so much he’d admit it was a valid inquiry; as it is, he hated when Paul poked his nose into their business. After all this time  _ nothing  _ would make him trust that guy.

 

“We’re having an orgy, can’t you tell?” Freddie said breezily, laughing at Paul’s shocked face. Roger cheerfully flipped the other Alpha off as they all piled inside.

 

“...Okay, maybe I went overboard,” Roger admitted with a rueful grin. “But it worked!”

 

“Fuck off,” Brian said, but he was smiling.

 

It may have been the biggest bedroom on the Farm with the biggest bed, but it was still a tight fit; they lay on top of the covers and they were all crowded on top of one another. Laughing, Freddie and John forced Brian and Roger into the middle for once.

 

“You have the most making up to do,” Freddie teased, his head resting on Roger’s stomach. John lay half on top of Brian, snickering at their surprised faces. But they acquiesced with grace, laughing at themselves.

 

“Sorry about the bacon, Bri,” Roger said.

 

“Yeah, sorry for throwing that orange juice,” Brian laughed.

 

The laughter died down as they lay there, clinging to one another, ready to admit how ridiculous they’d been and laugh at themselves. John was just starting to doze off when they distantly heard Crystal shout; “WHAT THE  _ FUCK  _ IS WITH THIS MESS!?”

 

Oh God. None of them had cleaned the kitchen. They’d left the food and drinks, the broken plates and glasses all over the floor.

 

One by one their gazes locked. There was a split second of silence before they all burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I'm In Love With My Car plays in the distance*


	11. Brian: Sing Me To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the power fails during a snowstorm a cuddle pile is needed to keep warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian is the Mom Friend, change my mind.

**December, 1972** **  
** **_“Our memory will be my lullaby; Sing me to sleep now. Sing me to sleep, won't you sing me to sleep now? Sing me to sleep.” -Sing Me To Sleep,_ ** **Alan Walker**

 

Winter in London was never exactly  _ fun,  _ but this year was it’s own kind of awful. Brian loved to look at the snow, but tramping out in it? Less fun. They’d all four come down with colds and flus at least once each as the temperature continued to drop. Roads were dangerous ice traps, buses were put on hold and now they’d been warned of a possible power failure. 

 

So far they’d been lucky; one of their biggest concerns was paying their heating bill and they’d managed it. But if the power failed there’d be nothing they could do.

 

Three days after the warning and they were still toasty and safe in their flat.

 

Typical really, that the power went in the middle of the night.

 

Brian woke up shivering in the dark; even under the blankets, even with his thickest pyjamas on he was suddenly freezing. Through a crack in the curtains he could see snow falling more heavily than ever.

 

“Shit,” he muttered. The promised power failure had finally arrived. He could hear Roger tossing and turning, grumbling in his sleep and then came a final huff and a whiny, “Bri-aaannnn?”

 

“Yep, power’s gone,” Brian confirmed for him. Roger groaned, turning over to bury his face in his pillow.

 

“How is it already so fucking freezing?” Roger hissed. “Who even created winter? Fuck them.”

 

Brian was far too tired to get into the Earth’s orbit and position of the sun and climate; he just grunted in agreement. 

 

Then the door creaked open and Deacy and Freddie poked their heads in. He could see Freddie shivering; he could hear Deacy’s teeth chattering.

 

“G-Guys?” Deacy said- and no more needed to be said. They all instantly knew what to do.

 

“Right then,” Brian said and hopped out of bed. Roger groaned again but followed his lead and the four of them pushed the two beds together. Freddie ran back to his and Deacy’s room to grab their blankets and pillows; Roger went and took the woolen throw from the sofa, Brian searched the airing cupboard for any more blankets while Deacy gathered every spare pillow and cushion from the living room.

 

All in all it was certainly one of their comfier “nests.”

 

He wasn’t sure if it was his Alpha instincts to protect and provide that had him worrying about Deacy and Freddie in particular, or if it was what Roger dubbed his “Mum Friend” tendencies, but he made sure they were both in the middle of the cuddle pile as they climbed back into bed. He couldn’t help but worry over how skinny they both were; they certainly seemed to be shivering harder than Roger, or even Brian himself and he knew he wasn’t what you’d call broad or muscular by any stretch of the imagination.

 

“That’s better,” Freddie mumbled, already half asleep.

 

“Our cuddles are fuckin’  _ magic, _ ” Roger declared around a yawn. Deacy chuckled, curling closer against Brian, nodding off himself.

 

The heat of the four of them crowded together, the softness of their little “nest” soon had them all drifting off; the snow storm and the power failure were soon forgotten as they all fell back asleep.

 

If the power wasn’t back by tomorrow Brian supposed that was just an excuse to stay in their cuddle pile all day.

 

There were worse ways to spend a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to be NSFW but I wanna hug Brian May.


	12. Freddie: Buy The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first cuddle pile after Ridge Farm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the other chapters this one takes place in the "Pushing Through The Darkness" 'verse. After telling Foster to shove his gold discs, they finally have a cuddle pile, the first one since Ridge Farm.

**1975** **  
** **_“You bought a star in the sky tonight, because your life is dark and it needs some light. You named it after me. But I’m not yours to keep, because you’ll never see, that the stars are free. Oh we don’t own our heavens now, we only own our hell. And if you don’t know that by now then you don’t know me that well.” -Buy The Stars,_ ** **Marina And The Diamonds**

 

Well, they’d walked. At long last, after all the bullshit Foster had pulled over the years, they’d finally quit.

 

He should have known better than to accuse Freddie of lying about Paul; he should have known better than to demand Freddie get rid of the baby.

 

The whole drive to Roger’s, Freddie kept both hands on his stomach, like that would keep the baby safe. His mind just kept going back to Foster’s snarl of _“You’re not keeping it”_ and _“It’s bad enough you let Taylor_ and _Prenter shag you!”_

 

Right. Because he didn’t believe that Paul had raped Freddie. He firmly believed it was all Freddie’s fault, that he was lying.

 

Enough was enough.

 

“Well it’s about time we quit,” Roger said once they got to his flat. “EMI are full of assholes. No more Foster and no more Sheffield.”

 

“And good riddance,” Deacy added.

 

“Right, I’m popping the kettle on,” Roger said, heading to the kitchen. “You guys want lunch?”

 

“Just some biscuits,” Brian called after him. Freddie stayed sitting on the sofa, hunched over, hands on his stomach. It wasn’t starting to swell yet, but he supposed it would soon. The idea terrified him, yet a small part of him was excited by the prospect too.

 

 _It’s mine,_ he reminded himself again. _Mine, not Paul’s._

 

He thought he was doing okay; better than before anyway. But when Brian and Deacy sat down they made sure to keep away from him. Brian in particular kept at a distance, practically smushing himself into the corner of the sofa. When Freddie looked at him he gave a smile that was so forced it was painful.

 

“Just making room for Rog,” he said.

 

Freddie didn’t buy it for a second.

 

He knew what they were doing, of course; they didn’t want to freak him out or crowd him. He’d only recently started leaning on them again when they worked; they’d only recently started to hug each other again, so he _got_ it.

 

It pissed him off all the same.

 

They were his _friends,_ his _pack._ They’d looked after him for so long, they shouldn’t have to be so worried about scaring him. Hell, he never should have _been_ scared of them. Because he had been. He’d flinched away whenever they got close, only clinging to Roger- and even then there were days when he wouldn’t let Roger touch him.

 

He _missed_ them, which sounded so stupid, they were right _there-_ and yet they weren’t. Things were so different now, they were awful and confusing and he was so scared all the time.

 

And right now, curled up alone on his end of the sofa, he was starting to get annoyed.

 

Right then. Fuck this.

 

Mind made up, he got up and plopped himself down next to Brian. When Brian stared down at him with clear surprise Freddie only knocked their arms together, hoping Brian would get the hint.

 

He did. He was still clearly shocked, but his eyes softened considerably, his smile was clearly real as he wrapped an arm around Freddie’s shoulders and tugged him in closer, resting his cheek on top of Freddie’s head.

 

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

 

“I’m fine,” Freddie said.

 

He caught Deacy’s gaze; the young Beta looked positively _relieved._ Without a word he got up and joined them, hugging Freddie from the other side, nose pressed against Freddie’s neck.

 

“Oh what, cuddling without me?” came Roger’s teasing voice. He stood in the doorway, balancing a tray of cups and the teapot. He was grinning fit to burst, the happiest Freddie had seen him since Ridge Farm.

 

“Get over here then,” Brian said.

 

“Not much room on that shitty sofa,” Roger pointed out. He set the tea down and grinned at them. “My room?” he offered. Smiling, Freddie nodded.

 

Minutes later they were crowded on Roger’s bed. Roger spooned Freddie who was lying half on top of Brian’s chest; Brian had an arm wrapped around Deacy, hugging him tightly. He lay a little further down than Freddie and Freddie was absentmindedly plaiting and unplaiting parts of his hair. Their legs were all tangled; if anyone wanted to get up it would take some work.

 

“I missed this,” Deacy admitted quietly.

 

“Me too,” Freddie said. He closed his eyes, allowing their familiar scents to wash over him: Roger’s dark chocolate and oranges, Brian’s pine needles and apples, Deacy’s peppermint and lemon. He was safe with them. He always had been.

 

“You okay, Fred?” Roger whispered in his ear, quiet enough so the others wouldn’t hear.

 

One hand still playing with Deacy’s hair, Freddie nodded, smiling against Brian’s chest. Things finally felt _normal._

 

He was safe with them. Freddie wouldn’t let himself forget that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to hug Freddie Mercury, please and thank you.


	13. Roger: Caught In The Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and Brian are in rut. Freddie's in heat. Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you have asked what would happen if Roger and Brian's ruts were to happen at the same time as Freddie's heat. The answer: hovering. Over-protectiveness. Enough Alpha bullshit to drive Freddie and John up the wall.

**1972** **  
** **_“I'm just a little bit caught in the middle. I try to keep going but it's not that simple. I think I'm a little bit caught in the middle. Gotta keep going or they'll call me a quitter. Yeah, I'm caught in the middle.” -Caught In The Middle,_ ** **Paramore**

 

Roger supposed it was inevitable really. Even with Freddie’s irregular heats it was bound to happen eventually.

 

He woke up in rut, right on schedule. Brian, in the bed across from him was _also_ in rut, three days earlier than usual. No biggie really, though Roger knew damn well that meant a fight was inevitable.

 

What he didn’t anticipate was for Freddie to be in heat as well.

 

There went the entire day really.

 

Roger wandered into the kitchen, still half-asleep. The only thing on his mind was coffee. Brian followed behind him shortly after and began to patter about making toast and tea, though he was grumbling under his breath as he did. Deacy joined them a few minutes later, perky like the morning person he was. However, once he noticed the scents, he winced.

 

“This isn’t going to be a good day, is it?” he asked tiredly.

 

“Probably not,” Brian admitted, while Roger bluntly said, “No.”

 

Because the thing was Roger _knew_ what he was like during rut. His temper was a bomb. He was possessive of what he deemed his, over-protective, irritable at best, explosive at worst. If it got really bad...Well, he _did_ knock that guy’s tooth out for groping Freddie. Hand on heart, that was him at his worst. He didn’t feel anywhere near that angry today, so things shouldn’t be _too_ bad- but they wouldn’t be good either.

 

And Brian in rut? Huffy, overly-sensitive, snappy and he _hovered._ He hated not knowing where his pack was at all times during rut, but Roger _hated_ being coddled during rut, so...Yeah. It always led to at least _one_ fight.

 

He was just starting to think it might be for the best if he and Brian avoided each other for the day and see how they felt tomorrow, when Freddie stumbled in, yawning, cradling his cat in his arms.

 

The scent had Roger sitting up straighter in his chair and Brian stiffening at the counter.

 

Freddie was in heat. _Of course_ Freddie was in heat.

 

Deacy summed it up perfectly; “Well, shit.”

 

“What?” Freddie asked, biting back a yawn- and then he realised. He instantly glared at them. “I swear to God, if you two start hovering,” he began hotly, only for Brian to say, “We won’t, honestly!”

 

“Liar,” Freddie snapped.

 

Roger wasn’t even going to pretend otherwise. He could already feel his protective instincts flaring, screaming _PROTECT, PROTECT! THAT’S YOUR OMEGA, PROTECT HIM!_ No, Freddie wasn’t _theirs_ in the sexual or romantic sense, but he was still _theirs,_ still family and what’s more, he was the _only_ Omega in their little group.

 

The logical side of Roger’s brain told him to calm down, to not be stupid; Freddie was fine. They were safe at home, they had no plans for today. No strange Alpha was going to come along and hurt him.

 

The more base part of brain screamed at him to keep Freddie safe at all costs; he even twitched when Brian offered Freddie some tea. Brian glared at him, but he insisted on pulling Freddie’s chair out for him, immediately asking if he wanted food.

 

So Brian was in “caretaker” mode rather than “fighter” mode. That should at least make things a little easier.

 

Roger still couldn’t stop himself from scooting his chair closer to Freddie’s, ignoring Deacy’s eye roll.

 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Deacy informed them. “I know you’re in rut, but there’s no threat here.”

 

“That won’t stop them,” Freddie huffed. His cat kept trying to drink his tea. Freddie looked fed up and he’d only been up for five minutes.

 

All things considered, Roger couldn’t blame him. He still remembered punching that guy’s tooth out. He still remembered Freddie coming home drenched from the rain and Brian freaking out like he was moments away from death.

 

He scooted closer. Freddie eyed him warily.

 

“Don’t,” he said.

 

Roger pulled Freddie closer until Freddie was practically in his lap. He purred happily; Freddie rolled his eyes and drank his tea. Brian set out a bonafide feast in front of Freddie and Deacy: toast, beans, eggs, bacon, sausages, fried tomatoes; orange juice, more tea and coffee.

 

“This is going to be such a long day,” Deacy groaned as Brian sat too close for comfort.

 

“This is going to be a long _five_ days,” Freddie corrected. Roger cuddled him tighter. Freddie pinched Roger's nose.

  
  
  
  
  


Roger maintained he was being perfectly reasonable; it was totally okay to hold onto Freddie all day. Yes, he and Brian kept snapping at each other over little things- “Close the window,” “The TV’s too loud,” “Make your own coffee,” “You’re breathing too loud,” but they’d been _worse._

 

Heck, he even thought Brian was being reasonable. Whenever Freddie or Deacy got up Brian would quickly ask where they were going.

 

“Oh my God,” Deacy said through gritted teeth, “I’m going to the fucking _bathroom,_ Bri!”

 

“Oh,” Brian said. “That’s okay then.” He was quickly distracted when Freddie sneezed.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

 

“It was a sneeze, Brimi, darling,” Freddie said.

 

“That doesn’t answer the question, Fred.”

 

Freddie sighed. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’re sure?” Roger asked.

 

_“I’m. Fine.”_

 

He could see all the little signs of Freddie’s temper building; clenched fists, pouting, occasionally huffing dramatically. If he was honest he expected Freddie to start yelling at them any minute now.

 

Then an ad about animal abuse came on the telly and all hope was lost. Freddie hated those ads as it was; he always got upset when one came on. But in heat?

 

Freddie took one look at the starved, beaten puppy on screen and burst into tears.

 

“Roger, what did you do!?” Brian instantly demanded furiously.

 

“I didn’t do anything!” Roger protested, holding Freddie tighter.

 

“You must have done _something!_ ”

 

“No I didn’t!”

 

“Would you both _shut up?_ ” Freddie sobbed. He pulled out of Roger’s grip, glaring at them both. The effect was rather ruined by the continuous stream of tears. “God, you’re both driving me nuts!”

 

“What the hell is going on here?” Deacy was back. He took one look at the tears on Freddie’s face and snapped, “What did you two do?”

 

 _“Nothing!”_ was the simultaneous response.

 

“Fred?” Deacy knelt in front of Freddie, holding onto his hands. “You alright?”

 

“Fine,” Freddie said. “Just…” He nodded towards the TV. “Sorry, it was just that animal abuse advert again.”

 

“Hm, that’s a nasty one,” Deacy acknowledged. His thumbs ran back and forth soothingly over Freddie’s knuckles. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

 

Freddie pulled one hand free to wipe at his face. When Brian and Roger moved forward he glared at them again; they froze in place. “Just...Hormones kicking in,” he mumbled. “Think I’m gonna go lie down for a bit.”

 

So said, he pulled away entirely and slipped off to his room.

 

Roger quite felt like an idiot. Deacy’s glare drove the point home. Brian slouched in his seat, suddenly looking very small and ashamed.

 

“Look,” Deacy began stiffly. “I know you’re both going to be all...pissy and possessive for the next five days, but Fred’s going to feel like _shit_ for the next five days. Okay? Snapping and fighting and hovering isn’t going to help _anyone._ You two want to have a pissing contest, be my guest, but leave me and Freddie _out_ of it.” He stood, dusting his jeans off. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make sure he’s _actually_ okay. Kindly bugger off until you can keep calm.”

 

And he marched off, fists swinging, the picture of righteous anger.

 

For the youngest he was such a parent.

 

And like a parent, he knew how to make them feel like idiots.

 

Suddenly feeling ashamed, Roger glanced at Brian. And, well, Brian looked as bad as he felt.

 

“Maybe we have been snapping a lot,” Brian muttered. He wouldn’t make eye-contact. It _was_ a little embarrassing to be lectured like that.

 

Roger sighed, arms folded, foot tapping. Okay, maybe they’d gone a little overboard. It wasn’t like they could _help_ it...But they hadn’t made an effort to keep calm, or keep the other two out of it either.

 

And now Freddie was in tears and Deacy was pissed off at them.

 

Shit.

 

He could hear the tell-tale _screeching_ noises that let them know the beds were being pushed together. He had to bite back a whine when he realised they were cuddling without him or Brian. Brian strained his seat to glance down the hall, looking downright mournful.

 

“...Do you think if we apologise they’ll let us in?” Brian asked hopefully- though he didn’t _look_ very hopeful about their chances.

 

“Only one way to find out,” Roger said, jumping to his feet.

 

Sure enough, they were cuddling without them. Deacy lay flat on his back, an arm tight around Freddie. Their resident Omega was half dozing, already looking much happier.

 

“We’re sorry,” Brian blurted out first. Deacy raised an eyebrow; Freddie peered up at them through his eyelashes.

 

“We were idiots,” Roger said, albeit a little grudgingly. He was never one for saying sorry with ease.

 

“Hm, you were,” Deacy agreed with a smile. He pushed Freddie’s hair back, looking far too pleased with the whole scenario. “Whatcha think, Fred?” he asked. “Think they deserve a cuddle?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Freddie said, but the little shit was _grinning._ “They do _look_ sorry.”

 

“Hm, yes, quite bereft,” Deacy added.

 

“Oh my God, can we join in or not, this is _killing_ me!” Roger burst out. Brian outright whined. Roger felt seconds away from doing the same. He felt left out and his more primal side was going _nuts._ If they said no he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from sulking.

 

“Let’s see…” Freddie made a show of tapping his chin and looking thoughtful. Deacy only stared them down. But then Freddie grinned and said, “Oh, don’t look so desperate, darlings- get over here.”

 

They didn’t need to be told twice.

 

It instantly became a dog pile; they were practically tripping over themselves to join in the cuddle. Brian curled up on Deacy’s free side, resting his head on the Beta’s shoulder; he pressed his nose against Deacy’s neck and breathed deeply. Deacy, much calmer himself, hugged him tightly. Roger wrapped himself around Freddie, finally relaxing totally when Freddie joined their hands and squeezed.

 

“We really are sorry,” Roger repeated, still feeling rather stupidly chastised.

 

“We forgive you,” Deacy said, only slightly teasing. Brian hummed happily, snuggling closer. Well, in his current state this was probably Brian’s dream come true.

 

Roger certainly felt better. A purr escaped before he could stop it as he buried his face in Freddie’s hair.

 

And, okay, part of him was still waiting for some threat to appear; a little part of him still wanted to shout _“He’s mine, he’s ours, back off!”_ at anyone and everyone. But he also felt much calmer. For once he didn’t mind being coddled during rut- probably because he still got to hover himself.

 

That didn’t stop him from growling when Freddie tried to sit up.

 

“Oh my God, Rog,” Freddie groaned. “I just want water, let go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaannndddd this is all I've managed to get done! I'll see you guys in a week! 💕💕


	14. John: Immortals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are about to start their first USA tour; Miami is surprisingly chill about the cuddle piles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *kicks down the door* I'm back, bitches.

**Cleveland, America, 1974** **  
** **_“I try to picture me without you but I can't. 'Cause we could be immortals, immortals. Just not for long, for long. And live with me forever now, you pull the blackout curtains down. Just not for long, for long. We could be immor-immortals.” -Immortals,_ ** **Fall Out Boy**

 

Reid found out about their cuddle piles after a show. Miami found out before one.

 

It was just before their first ever concert in America and they were nervous wrecks. John felt close to throwing up. Roger kept tapping out beats on his legs, nearly vibrating with nervous energy. Brian was pacing up and down; Freddie went through his breathing exercises for the thousandth time. 

 

After all the rehearsals, after all the sheer  _ chaos  _ of organising this one show (let alone the rest of the tour) John still couldn’t quite believe they were here. They’d reached the charts in  _ America.  _ They were on tour in the bloody States! They had honest-to-God  _ groupies,  _ which somehow felt like the weirdest thing to happen so far. 

 

(Roger and Brian were clearly loving that much at least.)

 

Christ, but they only had twenty minutes until they had to go on stage. The show was sold out; John could faintly hear the crowd, even from here. 

 

They’d be fine. Of  _ course  _ they’d be fine. They’d kill it, they always did. 

 

That didn’t stop him from wanting to run back to the tour bus and lock himself inside.

 

He looked around at his friends, his boys; he took in their nervous tics and said, “So, cuddle pile?” He desperately needed one right then and it was obvious they did to.

 

No one argued. They piled on top of each other on the (surprisingly cushy) sofa. Freddie managed a laugh (albeit one that still had a nervous edge to it) when Roger outright pulled him onto his lap. John threw his legs over Brian’s lap, feet resting on Freddie’s knees. He clung to Brian’s free arm; the other was thrown around Roger’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. Their drummer rested his cheek on Brian’s shoulder. Squirming slightly to get comfortable, John reached out and grabbed one of Freddie’s hands, still squeezing Brian’s arm with the other.

 

It wasn’t the most comfortable of cuddle piles; the sofa was nice and squishy, but it was so damn small. All the same, it did wonders for their nerves; bit by bit, they all started to relax. 

 

John closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. They could do this. They could wow any crowd. They were  _ Queen,  _ thank you very much.

 

“We’ll blow the fuckers away,” Roger suddenly said.

 

“Too right,” Freddie said. John nodded in agreement, still focusing on his breathing, copying what he’d seen Freddie do time and time again. In and out, in and out, slow and steady; in for four, hold for seven, out for eight…

 

“You boys ready to go?”

 

Oh cripes, not  _ again. _ They needed to remember to lock the damn door, they weren’t in the privacy of their own home anymore. Miami was there in the doorway, staring at them.

 

Only, the strange thing was, he didn’t look all that surprised to find them curled up together. Or embarrassed. Or disgusted. He...Well, he looked like it was totally normal.

 

John found himself oddly grateful for it.

 

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Brian said with a faint smile. Reluctantly, John climbed to his feet, pulling Freddie with him. Roger exhaled sharply, tapped his knees again, but jumped up with a determined little frown.

 

“Let’s knock them dead, darlings,” Freddie said with a grin. Because Miami was there, his hand immediately flew to his mouth to hide his teeth.

 

“You’ll do great, boys,” Miami offered, which- well, honestly, it was another surprise. Miami never spoke much. Sometimes John thought he seemed as nervous of them as they initially were of him.

 

They’d taken one look at him, with his perfectly styled hair and expensive suit, and shiny shoes and expected an utter stiff. They’d expected yet another older Alpha that would look down his nose at them; they expected another Sheffield at worst. But he seemed nice, all things considered. He didn’t look down his nose at them; he actually seemed to  _ like  _ them and their music.

 

And really, the fact that he wasn’t causing a fuss over the cuddle pile was another point in his favour, as far as John was concerned.

 

“Thanks, Miami,” John said. Miami nodded at him and went on ahead. 

  
A few more deep breaths and nervous smiles, and  _ Queen  _ linked arms as they made their way to the stage. They’d wowed the UK, they’d wowed Europe; now it was time to show the USA exactly what they could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as this mini-series goes, I intend to give Brimi, Fred and Rog one more chapter each so if there's a particular cuddle scenario you'd really like to see lemme know ^_^


	15. Brian: Burn The Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Freddie give an interview in which EMI is finally called out for their discrimination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-ho, guess who's still crying over how proud she is of Dan Howell? This bitch, that's who. 
> 
> Anyway; it's always been a popular request to see Brian take momentary leadership of the Freddie Protection Squad. I DO intend to get a one/two-shot in about that, so...consider this practice? At any rate, have some Freddie and Brian bonding.

**The BBC, 1976** **  
** **_“Roses are red, violets are blue. Lady Karma's a bitch and she's coming for you. 'Cause baby I'm a liar, I'm a bitch. And you and I have unfinished business. Narcissistic hypocrite, and I'm petty as hell but at least I admit it (at least I admit it). Blow my phone up, say I'm crazy, I know what you've called me lately. It's time to burn the witch. It’s time to burn the witch.” -Burn The Witch,_ ** **Emma Blackery**

 

Brian hated the BBC. He longed to tell them exactly where they could shove their protocols. He’d go to his grave bitching about having to mime whenever they performed here.

 

Today though, they weren’t performing. Today, he and Freddie were here for an interview.

 

And, okay, he had to give the BBC  _ some  _ credit: theirs were some of the only interviewers to actually  _ address  _ Freddie right from the beginning, rather than putting their questions about him to Roger, nor did they talk about Freddie like he wasn’t there. More often than not they actually got some pretty insightful questions.

 

Today was not one of those days.

 

They were with two presenters/interviewers. It was the evening show, rather than the morning one. Usually this meant some of the questions would veer away from being child friendly. Whatever. That was routine by now. Brian had expected questions about the tour they’d just finished, or questions about when the next album would be finished- but no. It was more like silly gossip, nothing that seemed at all relevant. 

 

The male presenter, a fellow Alpha by the name of Jacob asked questions about his marriage that he simply wasn’t comfortable answering. The female presenter, a Beta named Cheryl, asked questions about Roger and Freddie’s “break up” that Freddie had been asked so often that he was  _ bored  _ of answering them by now, and he made no effort to hide that fact.

 

It was just  _ dull  _ if Brian was honest.

 

Then they moved on to promotional images, some of their latest photoshoots; rumours of the next album’s theme (finally, something relevant!) and yet another topic of hot gossip- the fact that they walked away from EMI last year. The fact that Sheffield and Foster attempted to sue them for  _ Death On Two Legs. _

 

“Well, to be blunt, there was a lot of discrimination going on,” Brian said. “It didn’t feel like a very safe working environment.” The thought of Prenter, Sheffield and Foster still made his blood boil. He still wondered what had possessed the two executives to sue; the song hadn’t mentioned them by name. No one would have guessed it was about them if they hadn’t caused a public fuss.

 

“Understandable,” Cheryl said. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she added, “But EMI had some good ideas!” And just like that, photos from the 1973 nude photoshoot appeared on the screen behind them, slowly rotating through group shoots and singular shots of the  _ Queen  _ boys. Most of the photos were of Freddie. Of course. Most of the photos taken that day had been of Freddie.

 

Brian had to bite back a growl at the sight. He  _ hated  _ that shoot and everything it stood for. He wanted to tell them exactly what led to those photos being taken- but it wasn’t his place. It was Freddie they had aimed to hurt, Freddie they had aimed to humiliate. They tried to throw him naked into a room full of predatory strangers and Brian would never  _ ever  _ forgive them. 

 

It had been bad enough with the other three there to protect him; the idea of how much  _ worse  _ it could have been if Freddie had been alone as intended had cost Brian nearly a week of sleep.

 

The images stopped on a photo of Freddie; black and white like all the rest, he was mostly facing away from the camera, limply holding a plastic rose; his head was bowed and Brian knew that when that photo was taken, Freddie had been seconds away from crying.

 

_ The Alpha assistant grabbed Freddie by the hips and turned him so his back was to the camera and Brian wanted nothing more than to charge across the room and hit her. She could have just let Freddie turn on his own, but heaven forbid they give Freddie any peace today.  _

 

_ She was a little taller than Freddie in her heels (God, but he looked tinier than ever today) and then Freddie jerked, eyes wide and for a moment Brian couldn’t believe the Alpha’s audacity. Did she seriously just pinch Freddie’s ass? She did. She was smirking all over her face; even when she caught Brian’s eyes she looked totally at ease, as though to say “What’re  _ you  _ going to do about it?”  _

 

_ Roger hadn’t seen. If he had, Brian knew he’d be causing a scene right then. _

 

_ The camera flash went off and Mick called, “Perfect, Freddie!” Brian wanted to scream. Didn’t Mick realise how close to crying Freddie was? Didn’t he realise how outright predatory his assistants were being? Was he really that blind? _

 

_ Oh fuck this, he had to tell Roger what that woman just did. _

 

_ But as they all huddled together for another group shot, as he started to lean down to tell Roger, Freddie caught his wrist. He shook his head. _

 

_ And Brian kept quiet. _

 

He wished he hadn’t kept quiet. But would it have fixed anything if he had spoken up? If that photoshoot was ended early, wouldn’t Sheffield and Foster have just organised another one? If they had, Brian knew they would have pulled all the strings to make sure Freddie was alone. Or maybe he was just fooling himself to make himself feel better.

 

That photo was so damnably famous. Hundreds upon hundreds of fans presented Freddie with their copies and asked him to sign it, oblivious to the truth. One of the worst things, Brian thought, was that it was objectively a lovely photo. Freddie did indeed look beautiful.

 

But he looked miserable. He looked embarrassed. Brian wondered how the world  _ missed  _ that.

 

Next to him, Freddie had gone white as paper. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the screen.

 

“Bet that helped boost sales, eh?” Jacob quipped.

 

Freddie let out a little huff of stone cold laughter. He suddenly looked  _ vicious.  _ And Brian knew what he was about to do. He took Freddie’s hand, offering support, as Freddie finally told the world the truth; “Actually, I hate that photo. I hate that whole shoot. I was near tears when that photo was taken.”

 

Cheryl and Jacob looked utterly thrown. It clearly wasn’t what they were expecting.

 

Brian had never felt prouder.

 

“You want to tell them, Fred, or should I?” he asked.

 

“I’ll need you to fill in some blanks,” Freddie said. His smile was sweet but his eyes were furious.

 

It all came out. The ugly truth, the gritty details, the harassment, the humiliation. Every time Jacob or Cheryl tried to interrupt they just raised their voices, not stopping until they told it all.

 

“So, Brimi saved the day really,” Freddie said.

 

“Hardly,” Brian scoffed. “It didn’t do much good in the end.”

 

“Of course it did,” Freddie said, holding his gaze. Brian squeezed his hand again. It felt better hearing that than he’d expected.

 

“So...So that photoshoot was really meant as a punishment?” Jacob asked and thank God, he looked as sickened as Brian felt.

 

“I wouldn’t lie about that,” Freddie said firmly. “I talked back, they decided to force me to take my clothes off for it. End of story.”

 

Brian was pretty sure they had another lawsuit incoming. This was live after all. Sheffield and Foster would definitely hear about it.

 

It was so worth it. The world had to know the truth. Things had to change.

  
  
  
  
  
  


They left the BBC around eight. Brian knew they should probably part ways and head home. But he was still holding onto Freddie’s hand and adrenaline was still rushing through him. He didn’t want to let go just yet.

 

“Holy shit,” Freddie said once they were in the street. He stared straight ahead, seemingly in shock. “Darling, did we really just do that?”

 

“We did,” Brian said. His grin was just on the edge of manic. “Rog and Deacs will be sorry they missed that.”

 

Freddie laughed; he threw his head back and outright  _ cackled.  _

 

“Oh, Brimi love, we’re going to get sued again!” He was shrieking with laughter and it wasn’t funny, not really, but Brian found himself laughing along all the same. He ignored the other pedestrians staring at them and flung his arms around Freddie, holding on tight, swaying them back and forth; his chin rested on top of Freddie’s head as they both struggled to get a grip.

 

A lot of the time, Brian felt like a total fuck up of an Alpha- he was too quiet, too gentle, too hesitant, too melancholy. When he thought of the Alpha stereotype, when he thought of how he was  _ expected  _ to act- angry, possessive, controlling (“confident” his ass)- he was glad of it.

 

He wasn’t what was expected of an Alpha. Freddie wasn’t what was expected of an Omega. Maybe that was why they liked each other so much.

 

“Chrissie’s at a hen’s tonight,” Brian said. He’d yet to end the hug. “Wanna hang out at mine for a bit?”

 

He felt Freddie smile against his chest as he said, “Sure thing, darling.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Sure enough, the house was silent. Chrissie and her friends had booked a hotel, so at least there’d be no drunken young women bursting in at any second.

 

It was a bit odd having a cuddle pile without the other two around, Brian had to admit. Part of him almost felt guilty for leaving them out, which was daft. Cuddle piles were sometimes just cuddles between the two of them; they weren’t together all the time.

 

Like right now. They’d been curled up on the sofa at first, watching TV and munching their way through three whole bowls of popcorn; they speculated about what came next. How would the fans react? How would those in charge at EMI react? They likely had another lawsuit incoming and he was prepared for that. But everyone else? Who knew how they’d react? Would they be accused of lying?

 

It felt like they’d dived off a cliff. They were waiting to hit the ground.

 

When they finally ran out of words and worries they switched the TV off and fell into Brian and Chrissie’s bed. Their legs were tangled, Freddie was resting partially on top of Brian; Brian’s arms were tight around his slim waist. Freddie clung to him so tightly Brian half expected his shirt to tear.

 

“We’ll be alright,” Freddie suddenly said into the dark. “I really think we’ll be alright, darling.”

 

Brian couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He wanted some of that optimism for himself. He settled for momentarily squeezing tighter, delighting in Freddie’s brief huff of laughter.

 

“I won’t let anything like that happen again,” Brian told him. “I mean it. Roger isn’t the only one who’ll look after you, Fred. I’ll never let anyone try that again.”

 

His blackout curtains made it too dark to see each other; he wondered if Freddie was smiling again. He wondered if Freddie would give his usual “I can look after myself” speech.

 

Instead, Freddie linked their hands and squeezed tightly.

 

“You’re brilliant, Brimi,” he said quietly.

 

“Love you, Freds.”

 

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soulbrothers, baby!
> 
> (For anyone who's unfamiliar with the term "hen" it's the English and Irish way of saying "bachelorette")


	16. Freddie: Guiltless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Freddie's anxiety hits on the set of "I Want To Break Free" the boys take a cuddle break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "astheykissconsume" wanted to see the boys cuddling on the set of "I Want To Break Free"- bet this isn't what you had in mind, whoops 😂
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING for anxiety attacks. Better safe than sorry.
> 
> *gestures dramatically* It's time for lore and world expansion lads.

**March, 1984** **  
** **_“There is a wall in my life built by you; you opened a door that a kid shouldn't walk through. Oh, but I'm not bitter, I'm just tired, no use getting angry at the way that you're wired. Ignorant trauma in one afternoon. And I could never let you know (ooh you'd never get it). And now I'm the one who can't let go (ooh don't say it's genetic).” -Guiltless,_ ** **Dodie Clarke**

 

The thing about Freddie and his boys was that once they got an idea in their heads there was no changing their minds. As they brainstormed on ideas for the _I Want To Break Free_ music video, Roger had all but shouted, “We should dress in drag!”

 

And, well, why not? It sounded like fun. _Queen_ lived to shock (and to tweak the noses of old fashioned, snobby Alphas- Freddie could hear the outraged shouts already).

 

But then _Deacy_ said, “We should all dress like Omegas.”

 

Silence reigned. Bless Deacy’s heart; over the years he’d gone through book after book in a bid to learn more about Omega discrimination. Ever since the night at the club all those years ago, he’d done his research, even more than Brian did. Whenever anyone let their sexism show, whenever they got a little too handsy or obvious, Deacy was there to cite Omega Rights Acts, letting his rarely seen temper shine through.

 

There had been an Omega March just last week in London, two in New York and New Orleans each and one in Stone Town. They were, for the most part, peaceful marches. Demands for equal pay, better rights, protection.

 

That hadn’t stopped the police force in Stone Town from opening fire on the crowd. That hadn’t stopped a cop from dislocating an Omega woman’s arm in New Orleans- that protest had quickly turned into a riot. They’d seen the news footage. Windows were smashed, cars were set on fire, as the cops released tear gas and bullets into the crowd-turned-mob. As the mob threw bricks and rocks and armed themselves with whatever they could.

 

Freddie looked at the lyrics again and found himself wondering if their Deacy had an agenda of his own.

 

“Sneaky-Deacy,” Freddie teased softly. Deacy squarely met his gaze, chin tilted up, defiant. Copying Freddie’s _“what’re you gonna do about it?”_ stance. Silently giving his support to the protests and now finding a very vocal way to do it.

 

“I’m all for it,” Brian said.

 

“Me too,” Roger added.

 

They turned to Freddie. “If it makes you uncomfortable…” Deacy started, but Freddie smiled and gently flicked his forehead.

 

“Let’s cause a scandal, my darlings,” he said.

  
  
  


Their producers had been surprisingly on board with it. The costume department was clearly having a blast. They found images of traditional Omega clothing throughout the ages and worked from there.

 

Deacy wore a shapeless grey and beige dress and an oversized white bonnet that hid his hair and almost blocked his face from view. You’d be forgiven for thinking the stiff floor length gown and square-toed shoes were from the Puritan era- but no. It was from the 1900s, the clothing Omega women had been expected to wear in America. Pale colours, drab colours; hide the hair and make it hard for Omegas to peer around, to seem “immodest.” For all that America liked to brag that they were the first country to let bonded Omegas work, they also liked to hide that, not that long ago, they were also one of the harshest countries when it came to Omegas’ roles.

 

Brian was a bit more modern; hair curlers, pale pink lipstick, slippers; a silk housecoat and long nightgown. He watched multiple videos and copied the stances of Omegas he saw on TV; head down, hands clasped, eyes on the floor. In short, he looked like every Omega housewife you saw on television programmes; usually the ones where the Alpha husband was a slob and his sexism was meant to be seen as funny. In fact, his pink and white silk housecoat and lacy nightgown was based off the housewife in one of England’s most popular comedies. Anyone with a telly in England would understand the reference.

 

Roger’s outfit called out the education system- to be precise, it was a call-out that Omegas were only allowed into “real” secondary schools in the 1940s, just after the war. His schoolgirl outfit was traditional from the time; the long black skirt fell to his mid-calf, the tights were thick and wooly. A la some photos the costume team found, he even had white ankle socks on top of the tights, making it impossible for even the slightest glimpse of bare leg to be seen. His long blonde wig was held up tightly with two pink ribbons. Roger, being Roger, insisted on keeping the blazer unbuttoned and the tie askew- something that would have gotten any student’s hands a caning. Freddie supposed that was another call out.

 

And Freddie? Well, he had some experience in this area. He knew exactly what to pick.

 

It was an outfit that would have made his grandparents beam in pleasure. He wore a sheer, shimmering, floor-length veil that mostly hid his hair- or rather, the braided black wig. The heavy, beaded wrapper felt like it weighed nearly as much as Freddie; it also skimmed the floor. The skirt was loose and billowing. The shirt was snug enough, though the collar was quite high and the sleeves themselves were also loose, skimming his knuckles. At the last minute he decided against shoes. It was, for whatever reason, something that had been in art for centuries; a heavily pregnant Omega, looking sweet and serene and barefoot. He remembered Joe bluntly saying he was “pretty sure it’s a foot fetish, Fred.”

 

There were two things his grandparents would have hated. One: how bold the colours were- he was swathed in red and gold. Unmarried Omegas in India were expected to wear soft colours; bold colours were for the wedding day and married life. (Only married Omegas were allowed show their midriff or their arms too.) Two: his make-up was bold and dramatic; winged eyeliner, blood red lipstick, dark smokey eyeshadow; there was a faint gold glimmer along his cheekbones. It would have shocked them senseless; unmarried Omega girls were expected to wear soft make-up or none at all. Anything like this would have invited accusations of being “easy”.

 

He supposed he had to give his parents some credit; they’d allowed him to wear whatever he wanted. His grandparents had been scandalised by it, the few times they visited Stone Town. His parents allowed him to sit on the sofa and, more often than not, let him speak, even if they did usually tell him to _“Hush, child!”_ A lot of Omega kids in his neighbourhood weren’t allowed that. One of his classmates had been beaten with a belt for demanding the same curfew as his Alpha brother.

 

Those small freedoms changed whenever his grandparents visited. Suddenly he was expected to kneel on a pillow on the floor, to keep his head bowed, to speak only when spoken to. (He’d been in for a major culture shock when he ran away to England.)

 

And the veil? It wasn’t just for girls, though there was certainly more pressure on them to wear it. It was for _all_ Omegas. He still remembered how, on his fifteenth birthday, his grandmother had presented him with a soft, shimmering, pastel-yellow veil and gave him an earnest- almost teary eyed- speech about modesty and self-respect and what was proper.

 

Suddenly, looking at himself in the mirror, this didn’t feel like fun any more. His stomach gave a sudden lurch. God, replace the skirt with the typical soft, billowing pants traditional of Omega boys and he could be looking into an alternative universe. One where he’d been forced to marry Dazmen Yazadi after all. One where he was dragged to Bombay, one where he was forced to fix his teeth; one where he lost his voice. One where, one way or another, he’d be dead, be it literally or figuratively.

 

He wanted to pull it all off. He wanted to rip the clothes to shreds and get back into his jeans and jumper. He didn’t look like himself. This wasn’t funny anymore. He felt sick.

 

The door opened and his boys walked in, he could see them in the mirror.

 

Roger wolfwhistled. “Looking good, Fred!” he laughed.

 

Freddie couldn’t answer. He couldn’t seem to get enough air. That wasn’t really him in the mirror, was it? Oh God. Oh shit. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. They should have just stuck with crossdressing and left it at that. Suddenly, the idea of causing such outrage didn’t sound like a good thing. It suddenly sounded dangerous. What if it caused backlash? What if someone got hurt? No, he was being ridiculous, it was just a _music video._ They didn’t have that much power.

 

And yet as his teen years all came rushing back, he was suddenly so damn scared. He’d been so _miserable,_ his escape had been a narrow thing. How many of his classmates didn’t get out? How many were married off to much older Alphas, who would only beat them into submission? How many were killed? How many ran away only to be dragged back?

 

_Oh God, he couldn’t breathe._

 

“Freddie? Fred!”

 

He snapped out of it, suddenly surfacing, gasping for breath. He was on the sofa in the dressing room. When had that happened? Hadn’t he been standing in front of the mirror? How’d he end up on the other side of the room? Brian sat on his left, Deacy sat on his right; both had an arm around him, keeping him upright. Roger knelt in front of him, tightly holding his hands.

 

“There we go, you’re alright,” Roger soothed, giving his hands a squeeze. “It’s okay. What’s got you so anxious, mate?”

 

“I...I hate how I look right now,” Freddie managed to choke out. “I look just...Just like they w-wanted me to...to look, I…” He trailed off, pressing his lips together. “I hate it.”

 

“Shit, Freddie, I’m sorry,” Deacy said. He looked totally agonised. “I didn’t think-”

 

“Don’t be daft, love,” Freddie said, forcing some snap back into his voice. “ _I_ didn’t think I’d freak out.”

 

“Be right back,” Brian said, hurrying to the door. Freddie watched him go in confusion. One look at Roger and Deacy showed they were equally bewildered.

 

“What’s he…?” Roger shook his head, dismissing it. He turned back to Freddie. “You need water or anything?”

 

“I need a nap,” Freddie muttered. Typical of his anxiety attacks, he was left feeling drained and sleepy. He needed to recharge, but they had to start filming in...Shit, less than ten minutes now. Well, if he could finish two songs on stage with a broken leg he could handle this too.

 

But then Brian burst back in, locking the door behind him.

 

“We’ve got an hour,” he said. “I told them Freddie’s not well.” He held up a water bottle and a cereal bar. “Just in case,” he added and deposited them on the make-up table.

 

“You’re a darling,” Freddie said, grateful and relieved.

 

The sofa was too small to cuddle on; it barely fit Brian, Deacy and Freddie when they were sitting. All four of them trying to lie down would be impossible. Instead they grabbed any spare cushions, jackets and hoodies left lying around to use as pillows. Freddie pulled the veil off almost viciously and laid it on the floor, making a mental note to apologise to the costume department if it got dirty, and they all four lay on top, clinging together. Deacy had to take off his stupid bonnet to lie down comfortably; poor Brian was stuck with the curlers and he insisted on wrapping his coat over Freddie.

 

As per usual, Roger held him tightly, one hand tangled in Freddie’s hair. They both lay on their sides and Freddie clung to him just as tightly, face pressed against Roger’s collarbone. Deacy was behind Freddie, Brian was behind Roger and both of them flung an arm over the two in the middle, linking hands. And as per usual, everyone’s legs were so tangled that it would take some work to get up.

 

“You just rest and let us know how you feel when you wake up, alright?” Roger said gently. Freddie nodded, already struggling to stay awake.

 

Even as he drifted he couldn’t help but brood; why couldn’t things just be _fair?_ What made Alphas so special? What was it that made society decide, right from the start, that they should be in charge? What was it about Omegas that made people want to _possess_ them? Why were Roger and Brian the first Alphas he’d ever met who didn’t automatically try and tell him what to do? Why did it take until 1970 for him to meet two Alphas who looked at him as an equal? It couldn’t all just be genetics, surely?

 

They’d made some big steps as a society, but they still had so far to go. He was tired of it. But he couldn’t afford to be tired of it; he’d come this far, he wasn’t going to back down now.

 

He couldn’t really say the world was safe for Omegas, but here and now in this room? Here and now, surrounded by his boys on all sides? Freddie felt as safe as could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I've been re-reading "The Handmaid's Tale"? The urge to throw away all subtlety and put Deacy in red was real. Fingers crossed I'll have the next chapter of "Pushing Through The Darkness" finished by Friday at the latest!


	17. Roger: Little Wonders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie's not the only one looking forward to the new baby; the Queen boys have all kinds of plans to spoil her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this an apology for the last two chapters for "Pushing Through The Darkness." Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart...my bad.
> 
> Shoutout to "Gumborandy" who requested the boys having a cuddle pile in the studio during the last stages of Freddie's pregnancy!

**October, 1987** **  
** **_“Our lives are made in these small hours. These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away but these small hours, these small hours, still remain.” -Little Wonders,_ ** **Rob Thomas**

 

Another day at the studio and another day of Freddie all but passing out during lunch. They’d all been chatting away, arguing over what album cover they wanted, when a small kittenish snore caught Roger’s attention.

 

Freddie, seven months pregnant, was fast asleep on the sofa. Even in sleep, slumped over like that, his hands were on his stomach like he was trying to shield it.

 

“Oh that’s adorable,” Brian said. Roger agreed, don’t get him wrong, but he couldn’t help but worry over how knackered Freddie was, couldn’t help but worry over how small he was. As Freddie’s anxiety slowly started to melt away he was clearly euphoric to be having a baby at long last and Roger just so desperately wanted them  _ both  _ to be okay.

 

Freddie had been embarrassed about falling asleep yet again and threw himself full force into the album cover argument when he woke up. And it was definitely good to see him get that spark back, but...still...The poor guy still looked exhausted. 

 

So here they were at the end of the day and Freddie collapsed onto the sofa, looking seconds away from falling asleep again.

 

“You okay, Freddie?” Roger asked, plopping himself down next to him. Automatically he wrapped an arm around Freddie, pulling him closer. Freddie had his head in his hands, breathing heavily.

 

“Freddie?” Roger repeated with a stab of panic.

 

“Just my head,” Freddie mumbled. Ah, another headache then. With luck this one  _ wouldn’t  _ turn into a full on migraine. 

 

Brian, ever the mother of the group, produced some painkillers from his bag. Freddie knocked one back with a gulp of water.

 

“You’re a walking pharmacy, Bri,” he said, closing his eyes.

 

“Have to be with you nutters,” Brian teased. He sat on Freddie’s other side while Deacy sat next to Roger. 

 

“I’m allowed be nuts, I’m pregnant.”

 

“Not long to go now,” Deacy said. Probably the most doting father of the bunch, he reached out to pat Freddie’s stomach. His little laugh let Roger know that baby Maeve decided to kick again. “You excited?”

 

“Of course,” Freddie said. He rolled his eyes and added, “Just bloody  _ exhausted. _ ”

 

“Oh, it only gets worse from here,” Deacy laughed.

 

“Thanks, darling,” Freddie deadpanned.

 

“Well, however hard it is you won’t be doing it alone,” Roger said, giving Freddie a quick squeeze. “We’ll all be around to spoil her rotten, promise.”

 

Freddie eyed Roger up and down. Smirking, he said, “Hm, you know what, I think I’ll let Mary babysit her first.”

 

“Jerk!” Roger gasped in faux-offence. Hand on his heart, he said, “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

 

“I’m saying you’ll teach her your damn puppy eye trick and then I’ll  _ never  _ have a moment’s peace!”

 

“Well, while Roger teaches her to be a spoiled princess I promise to actually teach her something useful,” Brian said. “I’ll teach her all about space or maths.” Smiling, he hugged Freddie with one arm while his free hand rested on Freddie’s stomach with Freddie’s and Deacy’s. Feeling oddly left out, Roger rested a hand on the baby bump too. Maeve wasn’t kicking at the moment and Roger wondered just how much she could hear in there. He wondered if she was even awake anymore, or if she was as tired as Freddie. It was funny; he had two children of his own, he’d been around for all of Deacy and Brian’s kids, but he still felt awed at the process. 

 

Maybe it was because he’d never seen Freddie  _ glowing  _ like this.

 

“She’ll have an army looking out for her,” Deacy said. They were all crammed closely together, all careful not to squish Freddie, all with a hand on their best friend’s stomach. It was a very  _ loose  _ cuddle pile, but it was one of the most relaxed they’d ever had too.

 

“Jim’s already planning on teaching her to garden,” Freddie said with a yawn. He let his head rest against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes. “Suppose I can’t judge, I want to teach her piano.”

 

“I’ll teach her drums,” Roger teased.

 

“You’re fired.”

 

“You love me.”

 

_ “Fired.” _

 

For all his grumpy tone Freddie didn’t protest when Roger pulled him down to rest on his shoulder instead. If anything he snuggled in closer.

 

“What about you, Deacs?” Roger asked. “What’ll you teach her?”

 

“How to deal with this mad house,” Deacy said dryly. 

 

“Fair,” Brian hummed.

 

Freddie only offered a huff in response, keeping his eyes closed. Yep, he was definitely falling asleep again.

 

“Want me to drive you home, Fred?” Roger asked.

 

“Don’t want to move yet,” Freddie mumbled and- fair. He sure looked like he could use some extra sleep, pregnancy glow or not. Roger didn’t have the heart to move him.

 

Sure enough, Freddie was asleep in seconds.

 

“I think...I think it’s going to be okay this time,” Deacy said quietly. “I really do.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Roger said, unable to keep the fond smile off his face. Their hands were all still linked on Freddie’s stomach. There was the slightest kick from Maeve before she settled down again.

  
Only two months to go now. This time Roger was sure things would work out and when it was all done there’d be yet another  _ Queen  _ baby to spoil rotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do ya'll forgive me now? 😂


	18. John: Slipped Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John misses his dad; Freddie makes things better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe there was a request of two for Freddie to comfort Deacy? Here we go; Freddie's in mama bear mode.

**1974** **  
** **_“I wish that I could see you again, I know that I can't. Oh, I hope you can hear me, 'cause I remember it clearly...The day you slipped away was the day I found it won't be the same.” -Slipped Away,_ ** **Avril Lavigne**

 

John’s father had died when he was very young; usually it was just another fact in his life. The sky was blue, he played bass guitar, he was a Beta...And he had a dead father.

 

Usually he didn’t brood on it too much.  _ Usually. _

 

Whenever the anniversary rolled around, John couldn’t help but get upset; he was always left wondering how different things would be if his dad hadn’t died. He wondered what his dad would think of  _ Queen,  _ of John studying electrical engineering, what he’d think of Veronica…Well, it wasn’t like he could ask.

 

When he’d first moved to London for college he’d spent the first two nights in his dorm brooding over his dad, wondering if he’d be supportive. When he joined  _ Queen,  _ when he heard Brian have endless fights with his dad about music, he was suddenly terrified his own father would have disapproved too.

 

And now…

 

_ Killer Queen  _ had reached the charts. They had a show booked with the BBC. Things were going better than he ever could have hoped; they actually seemed to be making it. People were taking real notice of them now. 

 

And yet, for all their new success, John found himself suddenly missing his dad.

 

Would his dad be proud of him? Would he be excited? Or would he think this was all a waste of time? He’d been too young when his dad died for him to definitively say “Oh yes, he’d love all this.” He couldn’t remember as well as he wished he could, and that scared him.

 

He should have been jumping for joy- they were going to be on the  _ television-  _ but he felt like crying. He should have been getting ready to go out with his friends; he could hear Roger singing in the shower and Brian pounding on the bathroom door yelling at him to hurry up. They were meant to be heading out to their favourite club to celebrate, but suddenly all John wanted was to just lie down for a while.

 

“Deacy?” Freddie was in the doorway, face pinched in concern. “Are you alright? You look a million miles away, darling.”

 

“Just...Thinking,” John shrugged.

 

“About good things I hope.” Freddie sat next to him; although fully dressed to go out in a purple satin shirt, nails painted and wearing his favourite bangles, his hair was still damp, curling at the ends, fluffier than ever. 

 

“Not really,” John admitted quietly. He avoided Freddie’s gaze, suddenly feeling so  _ daft.  _ What was wrong with him? His dad had died years ago, he should have been over this by now. There was nothing  _ wrong,  _ hell they were on the road to fame and fortune! 

 

But he felt shitty all the same.

 

Both of Freddie’s hands wrapped around one of his; when John looked up at him, Freddie was frowning slightly, somehow oozing comfort.

 

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked.

 

“...I miss my dad,” John mumbled. He immediately wanted to bite his own tongue off. He shouldn’t be complaining to Freddie, not when Freddie’s dad had tried to marry him off to a stranger, not when Bomi Bulsara might have been  _ murdered.  _ If anyone should be complaining about their lot in life, surely it was Freddie, not John?

 

But Freddie only murmured, “Oh, my Deacy,” before he shifted to settle against the headboard of John’s bed. He held his arms out with a soft smile. “Come here, love.”

 

And maybe it was silly, a grown man needing a cuddle like this, but John didn’t hesitate to fling himself into Freddie’s arms. He was immediately enveloped in the familiar scent of flowers and spices, his face was pressed into Freddie’s chest and Freddie’s hand ran through his hair as he softly began to sing, so quietly John barely heard him. He wasn’t singing in any language John knew, but the melody was slow and soothing.

 

“What language is that?” he asked.

 

“Gujarati,” Freddie said.

 

“It’s pretty.”

 

There was a little huff of laughter as Freddie said, “Thank you.” He didn’t stop running a hand through John’s hair. From down the hall, John heard Roger finally emerge from the shower, Brian snapping something about hot water. The shower started up again as Brian took his turn; thankfully Roger went straight to his and Brian’s room to get ready, rather than come looking for John or Freddie. He didn’t exactly fancy an audience right now.

 

“So, what’s got you thinking about your dad, darling? Or is it just a bad day?” Freddie eventually asked.

 

“This is going to sound so stupid…” John muttered.

 

“Deacs,” Freddie said more firmly. “There’s nothing stupid about missing him, I promise you. So- what’s going on in that pretty head, hm?”

 

Despite himself, John smiled. It quickly slipped away again as he began to explain.

 

“I just...I keep wondering if he’d be okay with this, you know? If he’d be proud or if he’d be angry, or...Or disappointed. I keep wishing he was here to see all this and to meet Veronica and you guys.”

 

“Well that’s not stupid at all,” Freddie said. “And let me tell you, he’d have to be insane to not be proud of you.”

 

John peered up at him; Freddie’s hand stilled.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Freddie smiled. “I mean, I’m proud of you.”

 

Really, John couldn’t have held his grin back if he tried. He felt a sudden rush of love and honestly, leave it to Freddie to make things feel better in a matter of minutes.

 

“You are?” he asked.

 

“Of course! Deacy, just  _ look  _ at everything you’ve managed to do. I bet anything your dad’s up there bragging to everyone about you.”

 

John felt torn between laughing and crying. He settled for clinging to Freddie, hiding his face again. 

 

“So, here’s an idea my love: if you don’t feel like partying tonight I’ll stay here with you. Otherwise we can stay like this until Brian finally emerges from that shower to let you have a go- assuming he hasn’t wasted all the hot water himself.” (That got a giggle from John). “And if you at all feel sad tonight or want to come back early, you let me know, okay?”

 

“Okay,” John agreed. “I...I think I can handle the club, but...We can really stay here until Brian’s done?”

 

“As long as you want,” Freddie said.

 

It was funny really; Freddie was a good four inches shorter than John, yet John suddenly felt smaller than him. They were silent for a while; they could hear the water running, they could hear Roger thumping about in his room and swearing and John was pretty sure he could hear yelling in the apartment below theirs.

 

“Fred?”

 

“Yes, darling?”

 

He felt foolish for asking, but all the same, he said, “Can you sing that song again?”

 

Freddie began to sing again, just as quietly as before and John let his thoughts wander. His dad was dead and had been for a long time. He had no real clue if he’d be happy with what John was doing.

 

But for once, with one of his best friends holding him close, John could handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian may be the group mom, but Freddie is Deacy's mom.


	19. Brian: I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I Want To Break Free" invites a tidal wave of backlash; for once, Brian and Roger are on the receiving end too. Things are said, lines are crossed and at the end of it all they have a lot of hurt feelings to sort out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roger and Brian can be idiots sometimes. I'd imagine that when society tells you again and again that you're in control it'd be jarring to suddenly have said society laugh at you for doing what you were sure was the right thing.  
> Anyway, shoutout to "ayoungmartyr" who wanted to see the boys get in an argument about their dynamics- here comes some stubborn idiot Alphas.

**1984** **  
** **_“For all the dirty looks, for photographs your boyfriend took; remember when you broke your foot from jumping out the second floor? I'm not okay, I'm not okay, I'm not okay. You wear me out.” -I’m Not Okay (I Promise),_ ** **My Chemical Romance**

 

_ I Want To Break Free  _ invited backlash, the kind they hadn’t received in years. Suddenly the press pounced and criticized and attacked with glee; they accused Deacy of inviting- nay,  _ inciting  _ trouble. They said Freddie ought to pack it in, keep his mouth shut and stay at home like he was  _ supposed  _ to.

 

And, for the first time, Roger and Brian were seen as equally culpable. Hundreds,  _ thousands  _ of people were suddenly saying they weren’t  _ real  _ Alphas, they were  _ weak,  _ foolish; they let Deacy and Freddie walk all over them, when they should have been telling their Beta and Omega what to do. Suddenly they were accused of being irresponsible, of laughing in the face of what being an Alpha  _ meant.  _

 

MTV banned the music video in record time. The official statement was that it was “inappropriate.” 

 

For the first time ever, Roger and Brian weren’t excused. 

 

It got to them.

 

Brian arrived at the studio early; he knew he should ignore the stupid articles, but he couldn’t seem to stop reading them. So he sat on the drum-rise, reading the latest article, the latest attack on  _ Queen.  _

 

The latest attack on  _ himself. _

 

_ “That  _ Queen  _ thought dressing as Omegas would be acceptable is bad enough, but the fact that their two Alphas, Roger Taylor and Brian May condoned it is nearly unspeakable. Just another wave of these new weak Alphas, degrading themselves for publicity.” _

 

_ But it  _ wasn’t  _ for publicity,  _ Brian wanted to shout.  _ We were trying to make a point! _

 

_ “What happened to the good old days? Us Alphas were on top of the world, we kept things running smoothly and now these so-called celebrities challenge that for fun. If Taylor and May have any sense they’ll reign Deacon and Mercury in before irreparable damage is done- though it may have been already.” _

 

_ Weak, degrading yourself, stupid, reckless, sissy, moronic... _ The insults may have been repeating themselves, the reporters may not have been the most imaginative, but it stuck with him all the same.

 

He was tired, he was angry and when Roger arrived not long after, it was obvious the other Alpha was pissed off too. He was already looking red in the face, grinding his teeth. When Deacy arrived he glanced at them warily, like he expected them to blow which just felt so damn unfair that, ironically, it fed into Brian’s temper.

 

So when Freddie was late, Brian snapped.

 

“Would it  _ kill  _ you to be on time?” he demanded. Freddie blinked at him, shrugging his red jacket off.

 

“I’m sorry, darling, but the damn press were blocking my gates,” he said. “They were still shouting about-”

 

“Let me guess- about  _ I Want To Break Free? _ ” Roger asked. He was glaring at the wall.

 

“Well, yes…” Freddie and Deacy exchanged uncertain glances.

 

“Are you...Are you two okay?” Deacy asked cautiously. He edged closer to Freddie, a little behind him, the way he used to do in the early days whenever he was overwhelmed and wanted Freddie’s protection.

 

Brian could just imagine what his father would say about that; about someone looking for protection from an  _ Omega,  _ let alone one as small and thin as Freddie, as if  _ he  _ could look after anyone, he-

 

Wait. No. That wasn’t fair of him, what was  _ wrong  _ with him? He was pissed at MTV, he was pissed at the press and the hate mail, not Freddie or Deacy. They were his  _ friends.  _

 

Yet a little part of his brain blamed them for this whole mess.

 

“No,” Brian said slowly, stiffly. “I don’t know about Rog, but I’m not okay.”

 

Another shared uncertain glance, before Freddie asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

Brian just barely managed to hold back a snort; Roger didn’t. The blonde Alpha, always a ball of fury, lounged behind his drums, arms folded.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snapped. “Seriously, Fred? What do you  _ think  _ is wrong? Haven’t you seen the shit people have been calling Brimi and me? The shit they’ve been saying about us?”

 

Freddie continued to look hesitant, but Deacy suddenly glared.

 

“Oh, what, can’t handle the taunts? Welcome to our world, Roger! We have to put up with this all the time, the press have  _ always  _ given you two free passes! Get a grip, it’s not even  _ that  _ bad!”

 

“Not that bad?” Brian suddenly flared. “Let’s see: they’ve said we’re degrading ourselves, we’re bad role models, we’re not real Alphas, we’re weak...Oh yeah, it’s just been a bundle of laughs!”

 

“Hm, yes, I can see how  _ that  _ would be hard.” Freddie turned on him, eyes blazing. “It’s not like I’ve been called a sex toy for years; it’s not like I only started receiving equal pay as the rest of you in 1979.” His voice rose as he spoke, he was trembling though whether it was with rage or upset, Brian wasn’t sure. “It’s not like MTV is pinning this whole thing on  _ me;  _ Freddie The Freak, leading the good boys astray  _ again.  _ The stupid little Omega, the stupid little slut, should just keep his  _ fucking mouth shut  _ and let the Alphas tell him what to do,  _ right!? _ ”

 

“That’s not what I said,” Brian snapped.

 

“You’re-” Roger stopped, glaring at the wall again. “You’re both  _ used  _ to this, okay? We’re not, we-”

 

“You’ve always gotten special treatment,” Deacy said coldly. “Christ, does it not occur to you that this argument is  _ bullshit? _ ”

 

__ “You’re getting hate comments,” Freddie added. “We’re  _ all  _ getting hate comments for once. You just have to grin and bear it.”

 

“Boo  _ fucking  _ hoo,” Roger muttered, so quietly that Brian barely heard it. But Freddie did.

 

“What was that, dear?” Freddie raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

 

Roger glared at Freddie, glared at Deacy and it suddenly occurred to Brian what they all looked like; he and Roger on the drum-rise, Freddie and Deacy by the row of guitars on the floor. Divided. 

 

It felt like a chasm was opening between them and he knew he should calm down, he knew he should  _ try  _ and be rational, but he was hurt, he was angry and that primal part of him felt humiliated; he  _ was  _ an Alpha and he’d never felt like a good one. Usually he was proud of it. This time, having it thrown in his face by the whole  _ world,  _ just straight up hurt.

 

People were laughing at him and Roger, not  _ with  _ them and it was a shock.

 

He snapped back to reality when he heard Roger snap, “Well maybe if John hadn’t  _ written  _ the fucking song in the first place!”

 

“It was  _ your  _ idea to dress in drag!” Deacy yelled.

 

“And  _ your  _ stupid idea to dress as Omegas!”

 

_ “Stupid?”  _ Freddie stood to his full height, eyes fiery, near snarling. “It was a good idea!”

 

“Yeah,  _ you’d  _ think that, wouldn’t you? When’s the last time you  _ actually  _ had a good idea without help?” Brian said-  _ snarled _ before he could stop himself.

 

He immediately wished he hadn’t said it.

 

Silence reigned. Even Roger looked surprised.

 

“...Well, let’s see,” Freddie began, voice shaking. “Renaming the band was my idea. Our sigil was my idea,  _ my design. Killer Queen  _ was my idea.  _ Bohemian Rhapsody  _ was my idea.”

 

“Freddie…” Deacy said cautiously, but Freddie ignored him.

 

“ _ Don’t Stop Me Now, Somebody To Love, Seven Seas Of Rhye,  _ those were all  _ mine, _ ” Freddie said and oh God, oh God, he looked seconds away from crying. “Those were all  _ my  _ ideas and every single time executives and record producers, Reid,  _ everyone, _ tried to pressure me into letting  _ you two  _ take the credit!” He took a step back. “But oh poor Roger and Brian, getting a taste of what the real world’s like for the rest of us. Everyone thinks I’m the band’s  _ toy,  _ people insist Deacy can’t have good ideas either, they act like he’s some hanger-on! But yes, poor you, people think you aren’t  _ real  _ Alphas- that’s a fucking  _ good  _ thing as far as I’m concerned, you fucking  _ bastards! _ ”

 

It wasn’t like Freddie to yell at them because he was angry; he shrieked in excitement, he screamed in happiness. He snapped at them, he snarled at them, he sulked and could ignore them for hours...But yelling? Yelling while near tears? Pointing out how the world saw him, wielding it like a weapon? That wasn’t like him at all.

 

They’d done that.  _ Brian  _ did that.

 

Roger took a deep breath, clearly struggling for calm. He still looked angry though, he still sounded angry. “Freddie, I just-”

 

“Fuck off, Rog,” Freddie snarled. He wiped furiously at his eyes. “Honestly, just fuck you both.”

 

He grabbed his coat and ran from the room, slamming the door so hard the windows shook.

 

“...Well, I hope you’re proud of yourselves,” Deacy said quietly. He followed Freddie without another word.

 

_ Damn it. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


The rest of the week was hell. None of them spoke to each other unless they had to- and when they did it ended in another fight. There was still that chasm with Brian and Roger on one side, Deacy and Freddie on the other.

 

The more articles Brian read, the more despondent he felt, the angrier he felt.

 

But then he found articles talking about Deacy and Freddie and actually  _ read  _ them, rather than skimming through until he found the parts about himself and Roger.

 

_ “Once more, Deacon pushes boundaries with reckless abandon. Perhaps, were he not a Beta, it could be considered admirable. As it is, it could be considered dangerous in light of the riots in New Orleans and Stone Town. It invites further trouble, something Deacon seems to have not realised (typical Beta, hm?) or perhaps it is something Deacon  _ invites.  _ Perhaps  _ Queen’s  _ quietest member isn’t so quiet after all. Deacon is a known Omega sympathiser. The optimist could claim he doesn’t understand how dangerous that is. The pessimist (or realist) would be wary.” _

 

_ “Could music really spark a riot? Protesters have been spotted wearing the same Omega dress as John Deacon in the banned  _ I Want To Break Free  _ video...” _

 

_ “Rumours of hate mail and threats being delivered to Deacon’s home persist. Maybe next time he’ll think twice about inciting such dangerous acts. Perhaps  _ Queen’s  _ resident Beta will finally understand the way of the world and not encourage Mercury in his sinful pursuits.” _

 

_ “Mercury has never seemed to grasp an Omega’s proper role; although married to Jim Hutton he continues to parade around in outrageous costumes, insisting Omegas are as intelligent and capable as any Alpha. One would have hoped he’d have seen reason and settled down to have children by now, but he continues to defy the way of the world…” _

 

_ “Mercury is, to be generous, a highly talented singer- but more to the point, as an Omega, he should let Taylor and May handle the band’s image. This band has always loved to shock a crowd, but it’s high time the Omega frontman was reigned in.” _

 

The music channels weren’t much better; even when their video  _ was  _ shown they still showed clips of furious Alphas protesting the video. They even interviewed a few “fans”...and their comments made Brian feel sick.

 

One man who looked old enough to be Freddie’s father, laughed and said “if he was my Omega I’d bend the little sl _ (beep)  _ over my knee.”

 

The censor was unnecessary. Brian knew what the man said:  _ little slut. _

 

It was 1984 and in some ways Brian felt like it was still 1970. A lot of the time it seemed they were moving forward; they’d found a label that agreed to give Freddie equal pay as them. They knew a lot of Alphas that treated their Omegas as equals. Bonded and married Omegas were allowed to work; Omegas were allowed to vote. Omegas were allowed get abortions without an Alpha’s permission...But it was still legal to beat your Omega spouse “within reason.” If your were bonded or married...Well, it wasn’t considered rape if the Omega said no. It was still legal to claim part of their salary in “desperate circumstances.” Freddie may have equal pay, but the masses didn’t.

 

Alphas were so used to being in total control that they lashed out at the very  _ idea  _ of equality. Alphas were in charge; then came the Betas with  _ nearly-equal  _ rights. Then came the Omegas, who had less rights than any of them. 

 

It was legal for them to work now, but it was also still legal to turn them down just for being an Omega. They were allowed to go to college now, but many were still turned away. They were still expected to stay at home and do what they were told; they were still seen as idiotic and weak; they were still seen as sex toys, only there to do an Alpha’s bidding.

 

And Brian and Roger had played right into the haters’ hands by lashing out. Fuck. Maybe he was a bad Alpha after all, though not for the reasons the press said. 

 

Just as he began to slip into a dark tunnel of self-hate, something changed.

 

At the end of the week, he finally found articles and comments from Omegas and Betas; he read the fan newsletter and saw  _ support. _

 

_ “The biggest band in the world actually acknowledged the stupid shit we were expected to wear? Hell yeah!” -Holly, age 17 _

 

_ “Watching these guys gave me the courage to tell my parents I wanted to go to college after all. They gave me the courage to walk away from my abusive Alpha. Four years later and I’m about to graduate. Thanks for everything, boys.” -Derrek, age 21 _

 

_ “Among all the backlash and fury, this reporter wonders what the fuss is. Surely, this was not foolhardy but  _ brave?  _ Here is a band of four young men, determined to change the world for the better. My fellow Beta wrote another hit; he could have stopped there. Instead, he decided to take a stand, not for himself but for his fans. Frankly, I applaud Taylor and May for their support; it’s not every day you see an Alpha, let alone two, willing to acknowledge the unfairness of the world. This song, this video, complete with Mercury’s beautiful vocals, may just become the anthem Omegas needed all this time…” _

 

He saw one article commend him and Roger for taking the backlash well and he wanted to cry. Because they hadn’t. They’d lashed out, as the haters likely intended them to do. They’d blamed Deacy and Freddie, when it was no one’s fault but the bastards in charge. The narrow-minded fuckers who were so afraid of change they’d attack anyone to stay on top.

 

Brian made sure to bring the pile of papers, magazines and newsletters to the next rehearsal; he dropped them in Roger’s lap.

 

“Seems not everyone’s pissed,” he commented. Roger read them with an increasing look of disbelief.

 

“They liked it,” he murmured. “They’re happy…”

 

“And they’d be damn disappointed in us if they could see how we’ve been acting this week,” Brian said. Roger nodded, closing his eyes with a sigh.

 

“I actually told Freddie to shut up and do what he was told yesterday,” he murmured, as though it physically pained him. “Brimi, I’ve never done that before. He won’t even  _ look  _ at me today. I...I fucked up so badly.”

 

“Yeah, Deacs still isn’t talking to me,” Brian admitted. And maybe Deacy and Freddie had been impatient with them, but Roger and Brian had just kept taking it out on them until it all exploded. They just let the chasm keep growing.

 

For all that the world liked to insist Alphas were in charge they’d never been very good at teaching Alphas to take responsibility for their actions.

 

Luckily, Roger and Brian weren’t most Alphas.

 

They approached Deacy and Freddie during lunch break.

 

“Guys?” Brian had to fight to keep still, to not wring his hands or bite his lip. “We’re sorry. For everything. We fucked up, we were upset and took it out on you and that’s not okay, we-”

 

“We were assholes,” Roger continued. “And then we started trying to act like  _ ‘proper Alphas’  _ which was  _ such  _ a shit thing to do. We don’t think either of you are stupid, we  _ know  _ we shouldn’t try telling you what to do,  _ no one  _ should. We...Fuck, we’re  _ sorry,  _ we’re so sorry.”

 

Brian nodded in agreement as Roger spoke; before Deacy or Freddie could do or say anything he continued to babble apologies. “We were assholes, we ignored that the press were being awful to you too. We should have  _ talked  _ about it; you guys know how to handle this stuff, we should have listened but...We lashed out. We were dancing around the problem instead of talking about it and we really are sorry.”

 

He knew one apology wasn’t going to be enough to erase a week’s worth of fights, but it was a start. It would hopefully get the ball rolling, assuming their friends forgave them.

 

Which they did. Their friends, their Deacy, their Freddie, their lovely, wonderful best friends, looked at them steadily before Deacy nodded and said, “Well, it’s a start,” with a little smirk.

 

Freddie slouched in his seat, another thing that was practically unheard of, and Brian felt a stab of panic.

 

“Fred?” Roger asked. His voice broke. Freddie peered up at him, frowning, disappointed; he continued to look disappointed when he looked at Brian.

 

“...You’re bastards,” Freddie said. “And you’re both on coffee duty until I say otherwise.”

 

“Agreed,” Brian said.

 

Freddie nodded, slumping against Deacy. “Well, like Deacy said, it’s a start.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Another start, another step, was the cuddle pile.

 

They’d finished up for the day; everyone else had long since left, but  _ Queen  _ stayed behind, talking. They spoke about the articles, about the fights they’d had, about the apology. It wasn’t enough, not yet, things were still tense as they usually were after a big fight. A lot of feelings had been hurt.

 

What was that line in  _ Liar  _ again?  _ “Raise my voice in anger when I know I never should…”  _ Yeah. They definitely still had a lot to sort out.

 

But without a word they ended up curled up together on the drum-rise. It was dead silent. Roger was flat on his back with an arm around Brian and another around Deacy; he’d looked like he wanted to cry again when Freddie decided to lay half on top of Deacy instead. Brian understood; it certainly was different from their usual. Freddie normally didn’t hesitate to run straight into Roger’s arms.

 

It was tense, it was quiet, but it was an improvement over the rest of the week.

 

“You’re idiots,” Freddie blurted out. He twisted to face them, still resting his head against Deacy’s collarbone. “You’re better than those narrow-minded pigs. Don’t forget that again.”

 

“We won’t,” Brian promised.

 

“Hm...And if you ever tell me what to do again, I’ll prove how good a boxer I really am.” His brown eyes flashed and Brian didn’t doubt him. Roger swallowed heavily.

 

“Noted,” he choked out.

 

Freddie settled down again; Deacy’s grip on him tightened.

 

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t all magically better. But it was a start. They’d work through it together, rather than pushing each other away; Brian wouldn’t let himself listen to all that hate again. 

  
He had three amazing best friends to work on it with. So while things weren’t okay, while  _ they  _ weren’t okay, he didn’t doubt that they  _ would  _ be again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not all sunshine and rainbows but you know they'll be okay.


	20. Freddie: Fake Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ridge Farm, Freddie's struggling to pretend everything's okay. A cuddle pile is in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because even in the initial story, Freddie needs and deserves a cuddle after Paul's attempted assault.

**1975** **  
** **_“If I smile with my teeth bet you believe me. If I smile with my teeth I think I believe me. Oh please, don't ask me how I've been; don't make me play pretend_. ** ** _Oh no, oh what's the use? Oh please, I bet everybody here is fake happy too.” -Fake Happy,_ ** **Paramore**

 

It had been two weeks since Ridge Farm, since Paul Prenter was fired for attempted ra- attempted _assault,_ Freddie reminded himself firmly. That was the official reason: attempted assault. There was no point in brooding on what _might_ have happened. The important thing was that he screamed, his boys heard him and they stopped Paul before he could…

 

It was done with anyway.

 

Two weeks later and _A Night At The Opera_ still wasn’t finished. Foster was getting steadily more and more impatient. He’d made it plain they weren’t to take any breaks.

 

“Nothing _happened,_ ” he’d snapped back in his office, the day after Paul was fired. “No one actually got hurt. I agree Prenter acted...rashly.” He eyed Roger warily as he spoke and Freddie got it; Foster thought Paul was “rash” for touching another Alpha’s Omega. Then again, Freddie also wondered if Foster was just scared of Roger.

 

“Anyway,” Foster continued when there was no outburst from Roger. “You’re behind schedule as it is, so get back to work.”

 

Well, it was a distraction at any rate.

 

So, Freddie threw himself into the album full force. He worked on _Bohemian Rhapsody_ until his throat ached, until his eyes drooped and his lungs burned. He was exhausted but damned if he’d admit it. He couldn’t afford to be upset, not at a time like this.

 

For once, Freddie told himself, Foster was right. Nothing had happened; his boys burst in before anything could happen. He was _fine._

 

So why was he still so damn jittery? Why was he suddenly scared of walking home alone again? Paul hadn’t _done_ anything. He’d slammed Freddie to the floor, he’d kissed him. He didn’t get any further. Freddie was fine. Freddie _should_ be fine- no he _was_ fine, he _was,_ he…

 

He felt like crying. 

 

He’d gotten no sleep for two nights in a row now, too engrossed in the album. For once he was the first to arrive at the studio and the last to leave. Even when he got home he stayed up writing, playing piano or singing; when he was truly desperate he’d turn the TV up as loud as it would go.

 

Staying awake was infinitely better than sleeping; he was sick of having bad dreams. He shouldn’t even be _having_ bad dreams, Christ, what was _wrong_ with him? Why couldn’t he handle this?

 

_“Omegas are meant to shut up and spread their legs when they’re told to.”_

 

Every time that came back to him he wanted to vomit. He knew that was what a lot of people (maybe most people) thought; he’d fought against that idea for years. But it just kept repeating in his head, that maybe he’d done something, maybe this _was_ his fault, maybe Paul was _right._

 

He just wanted to get this album finished, he wanted it to be perfect, he wanted _Bohemian Rhapsody_ to be perfect, but right now he was struggling to stay awake. He’d arrived at the studio the second it opened its doors at seven o’clock and he’d been practicing alone ever since. No one else had arrived, not even their assistants or sound guys.

 

 _“I don’t wanna die, I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all,”_ he sang, a yawn cutting him off. Lightheaded he collapsed into the nearest seat. Fuck, was the room spinning? No, it was just a swivel-chair. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and the chair stopped swaying- but the room didn’t.

 

Fuck. Oh fuck, not good. He tried to call out for- well, there was no one to call out for. He was on his own; the others weren’t meant to arrive until nine and it was only eight-thirty.

 

Dizzy, nauseous, he squeezed his eyes shut and bent over double, taking deep breaths, tugging on his hair.

 

“Fred? Freddie!”

 

He struggled to understand past the roaring in his ears; somehow, he was pressed against Roger’s chest, being hugged tightly. “Fuck, Bri, get water!” Roger shouted. That didn’t make any sense, they weren’t meant to be here yet.

 

“Freddie, can you hear me?” Roger asked frantically. He heard a sudden sharp gasp and Deacy’s voice; “What happened, what’s wrong with him?”

 

“Just...Dizzy…” Freddie managed through gritted teeth.

 

Then Brian was pushing a paper cup of water into his hands and Deacy was trying to hand him a chocolate bar, though the sight made Freddie’s stomach lurch again.

 

“You alright?” Roger asked, still tightly gripping Freddie’s arms. Freddie nodded, sipping at the water. It was lukewarm: kind of gross, but beggars can’t be choosers. Deacy huffed and pressed the chocolate into his hands before he could wave it away again.

 

“Eat that, you ninny,” he said.

 

“What’re you all doin’ here?” Freddie mumbled. At another glare from Deacy he reluctantly started to eat.

 

“We’re early,” Brian said drily. “Bloody good thing too, or you could have ended up on the floor.”

 

“What happened, Fred?” Roger asked.

 

“Just tired,” he shrugged, staring at the floor.

 

“Fred.” Roger tilted his chin up, forcing him to keep eye contact. “You don’t nearly pass out because you’re _just tired._ ” He sighed and added, “Look, to be blunt you look like death. You’ve been here at all hours; we’re all stressed over this bloody album, but you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep this up. So- what’s going on?”

 

They were all staring at him, though they weren’t staring judgingly; they looked worried.

 

“I keep thinking about Ridge Farm,” Freddie admitted. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see the judgemental looks on their faces, the sneers, the-

 

“Oh, Fred, why didn’t you _say_ so?” Brian asked. He squeezed Freddie’s shoulder; when Freddie opened his eyes a crack, he saw that they _still_ looked worried. They didn’t look like they were about to laugh.

 

“For God’s sake,” Brian continued. “That’s _normal,_ we should have realised, we- damn it, Fred, I’m sorry.”

 

“Sorry?” Freddie turned to face him properly, surprised.

 

“We should have been keeping an eye on you,” Brian said. Deacy nodded in agreement. Roger hugged him again. 

 

“No you shouldn’t,” Freddie protested.

 

“Yes we should,” Roger said. “Fuck’s sake, Freddie, that bastard tried to rape you, we shouldn’t have let you convince us you were instantly okay again.”

 

Despite himself, Freddie snuggled closer. Sue him, but Roger was warm.

 

“We’ve half an hour until the others are due,” Brian said. “So…”

 

“Cuddle pile?” Roger suggested, a hand tangled in Freddie’s hair.

 

Freddie nodded and Roger helped him to his feet.

 

“We’re talking about this later,” Roger warned. “ _Properly._ Got it?”

 

Freddie was too tired to argue; he nodded again, which seemed to be good enough for his friends.

 

The sofa was surprisingly large; not all that comfortable, but more than big enough for the four of them. Brian stayed sitting; Deacy leaned against him on the left. Brian wrapped an arm around Deacy and Roger lay down, his head on Brian’s lap, and pulled Freddie down on top of him. Brian linked hands with Roger on Freddie’s back. Deacy took a leaf from Freddie’s book and reached out to plait and unplait a strand of Freddie’s hair, smiling when Freddie hummed happily. It was the closest he’d felt to purring in weeks.

 

“We’ll wake you in half an hour, alright?” Brian asked. 

 

“Right,” Freddie mumbled.

 

He was simply too tired to fight; he didn’t look forward to talking about it all, even if part of him knew that his boys were talking sense. He wanted to just push it all out of his mind, forget it had ever happened.

 

That wasn’t an option.

 

Time to take stock: they were behind schedule on this album and Foster was getting more pissed with each passing day, demanding to know when they’d be done. Paul had tried to rape Freddie (there, he’d admitted it) and had been fired. Everyone that had been at Ridge Farm knew, plus Reid, Miami and Foster. Freddie hadn’t told anyone else. Freddie hadn’t been sleeping well ever since. The thought of talking about it made him feel sick again.

 

_“Omegas are meant to shut up and spread their legs when they’re told to.”_

 

“It’s alright,” Roger murmured. “We’re right here.”

 

Finally, through the fog in his brain, Freddie thought _Fuck that._ Why should he believe Paul Prenter over his boys? 

 

God, he was tired.

 

It wasn’t alright yet. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, this would all take some time to work through. But, Freddie had his boys; his maddening, over-protective boys. If he could trust anyone with the rampant thoughts in his head, it was them.

 

It was the safest he’d felt in two weeks. Finally, a purr escaped before he could stop it; he just about heard Roger purr in response before he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touch Freddie and you'll have three furious Queens after you.


	21. Roger: Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the hepatitis scare, Brian's life hangs in the balance; Roger and the boys cling together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when my mom's boyfriend gets knocked off his motorbike; I'm feeling angsty, so here's some angst. (He's fine by the way, nothing was even broken, but it was a big scare)

**1974** **  
** **_“Slowly fading away, lost and so afraid. Where is the hope in a world so cold? Looking for a distant light, someone who could save a life; living in fear that no one will hear your cries. Can you save me now? I am with you, I will carry you through it all. I won't leave you, I will catch you when you feel like letting go. ‘Cause you’re not, you’re not alone…” -Not Alone._ ** **RED**

 

Roger felt like he was in a trance. Everything had been thrown off balance. Brian had hepatitis. He might lose his arm. 

 

Brimi, their Brimi, might lose his arm. Might never play music again. Might never play the Red Special again. Might lose his whole career, his passion,  _ everything  _ in one fell swoop.

 

For once EMI’s demands rolled off his shoulders. They didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Brian and his recovery, because he  _ would  _ recover. They couldn’t lose him. He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t lose his arm, he’d be okay. He had to be okay. Brian would be okay, he had to be, this couldn’t be it.

 

They’d finally managed to send Ruth and Harold home; the poor woman had been in tears and Roger had never seen Harold so worn down. Who could blame them? Their only child’s life hung in the balance.

 

He’d been terrified when Brian was admitted to hospital but it only got  _ worse  _ and now...and now…

 

The hours passed in a blur. As they took Brian away to be operated on, Freddie had to pry Roger’s hand from Brian’s. Roger fought back, shrieking and kicking; his instincts went haywire, seeing the doctors as a threat, screaming at him that if they took Brian away they’d never bring him back.

 

“It’ll be okay,” Freddie said, voice cracking on a sob. “Please, Roggie, calm down.”

 

It took both of them, Fred and Deacy, to wrestle him into a seat and anchor him there. Roger was sobbing too hard to talk; eventually he lay down, burying his face in Freddie’s lap as he sobbed. Deacy hid his face in Freddie’s shoulder, his own shoulders heaving as he cried. Freddie sat as straight as he could; one arm went around Deacy, his free hand stroked through Roger’s hair; he was trembling, but his hands were surprisingly steady and although his eyes were wet no tears fell. It occurred to him then that his weren’t the only instincts going off the rails. Freddie had an Omega’s instinct to nurture; not being able to do anything, not even being able to take proper care of Roger and Deacy was probably driving him insane. Deacy had a Beta’s instinct to keep order and balance; such a chaotic situation would fry his nerves. Just like Roger’s instinct to protect and provide was screaming at him that he was failing.

 

Brian had looked so  _ small,  _ as small as Freddie, maybe even smaller. Weak and pale, a ghastly image of his usual self. 

 

He’d looked dead.

 

A desperate whine escaped him before he could stop it; he bit down on his fist, trying to regain his composure, trying to remind himself that he had to be strong, for Brian and for Freddie and Deacy; he had to stay in control, he-

 

He couldn’t. He just kept crying; Deacy’s sobs were smaller now, a little choked. Their resident Beta was starting to droop, falling asleep.

 

“It’ll be okay,” Freddie whispered, barely audible. “It’ll be okay.”

 

Roger wanted to believe him, he desperately wanted to believe him- but more than anything he wanted Brian with them. This hardly felt like a cuddle pile. This all felt  _ wrong.  _ This was too desperate, too clingy, to full of fear. Yet if Roger had to do this alone, he might sincerely go insane. As his sobs slowed he tried to breathe more evenly, to inhale his pack’s scents past the hospital smells; Freddie’s flowers and spices, Deacy’s peppermint and lemon. 

 

Chest heaving, Roger let his eyes close, still desperately wondering what would happen next.

  
  
  
  
  
  


He woke slowly; Deacy was snoring and Freddie was mumbling something in Gujarati. When Roger opened his eyes he saw that Freddie’s eyes were closed; tears streamed steadily down his cheeks, but his voice never wavered as he continued to chant quietly.

 

_ He’s praying,  _ Roger realised and it rather took him by surprise. He’d never heard Freddie pray before.

 

“Fred?” Roger’s voice still sounded raw and broken. Freddie’s eyes snapped open; he sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

 

“Feeling any better?” Freddie asked.

 

“No,” Roger said.

 

“Me neither,” Freddie admitted with a sigh.

 

“...He’ll be okay, right?” Roger asked, which was stupid and unfair. Freddie couldn’t promise Brian’s safety, but Freddie nodded all the same, running a hand through Roger’s hair again.

 

“Of course he will,” Freddie said. “And I’ll be giving him a right telling off for scaring us like this.”

 

Roger snickered weakly, if only to make Freddie smile.

 

An hour passed and Deacy woke up. Another hour passed and Freddie went to get them coffee; it was disgusting but it served its purpose, waking them all up properly. And then they waited in silence, tightly holding hands.

 

And then, finally, as the sun began to rise, a doctor came into the waiting room.

 

“Family of Brian May?” he called.

 

Freddie squeezed Roger and Deacy’s hands; Deacy exhaled shakily and Roger steeled himself as they approached the doctor, still linked.

 

“That’s us,” Freddie said with admirable calm. “How is he?”

 

The doctor smiled and the sight alone had Roger weak at the knees with relief, even before he said, “He’ll be okay; not to worry, he won’t lose his arm. Of course recovery won’t be an overnight thing, but he’s past the danger.”

 

Deacy nearly collapsed, swaying alarmingly; Freddie let out a choked sob, nodding to show the doctor he’d heard.

 

“Can we see him?” Roger asked desperately.

 

“Not just yet,” the doctor said gently and Roger had to hold back a snarl. “I’ll call you when you can, lads, okay?”

 

Reluctantly, they agreed.

 

As soon as he was out of sight, Roger leaned against the wall; his hands were over his mouth, his breath came in deep gasps.

 

“Fuck,” he sobbed. “Fuck, I thought- I was so scared he’d-”

 

“I know,” Freddie said, hugging him. “Come on, darling, let’s sit back down.”

 

Most people in the waiting room were staring at them; some in surprise, some in confusion, some in simple curiosity but Roger ignored them all, too relieved to snap at them to mind their own business, too happy to care.

 

They resumed their previous positions; Roger with his head in Freddie’s lap, Deacy leaning against him. This time, Freddie tilted his head back, closing his eyes. The relief knocked the adrenaline from them. They were all exhausted again.

 

“He’ll be okay,” Roger mumbled. Deacy smiled, closing his eyes and Freddie squeezed Roger’s shoulder.

 

“He’s a fighter, our Brimi,” Freddie said.

 

He was, and Roger fully intended to hug the daylights out of him when they saw him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter is much happier.


	22. John: Hall Of Fame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Live Aid is a time for cuddles and celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised happiness, here is the happiness.

**Live Aid, 1985** **  
** **_“Dedicate yourself and you can find yourself standing in the hall of fame. And the world's gonna know your name, 'cause you burn with the brightest flame. And the world's gonna know your name. And you'll be on the walls of the hall of fame.” -Hall Of Fame,_ ** **The Script**

 

The second they finally had some privacy they collapsed together, curled up on the floor of their golden trailer. They pulled down every pillow available and took the time to finally go over the events of the day.

 

They’d just given the performance of their career and they were all still stunned.

 

Veronica, Jim, Dominique and Chrissie were all outside with the kids, plus Joe, Phoebe and Mary and no doubt Miami had joined the group too, but right now John couldn’t be bothered to move. Right now, he needed to be with his boys, just the four of them.

 

They’d killed it earlier; they’d ensnared that whole crowd and then Brian and Freddie ensnared them again with  _ “Is This The World We Created?”  _ They were still in their gear for that song; Freddie’s white shirt swallowed him whole, Brian’s black tank top was starting to slip off his left shoulder. A contrast to their old aesthetic, where Brian had been the one in white, and Freddie the one in black.

 

They should all get up and shower, make sure they were ready for the finale, but they couldn’t find it in them to break the spell.

 

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Roger said. He was, as usual, spooning Freddie, holding on tight. Freddie was tucked under Brian’s arm, while John had an arm thrown over Brian, practically lying on top of him.

 

“I can,” Freddie said with a grin. “Told you we’re brilliant.”

 

“There’s brilliant and then there’s whatever the fuck  _ that  _ was,” Brian laughed. “Everyone was clapping along to  _ Radio Gaga,  _ I can’t believe it. They weren’t all  _ Queen  _ fans, but…”

 

“But we had them in the palm of our hand,” John finished proudly. “There were people  _ crying! _ ”

 

“Because we’re  _ brilliant,  _ darlings!” Freddie said.

 

And, well, there was no room for argument. They all certainly  _ felt  _ brilliant right then. Christ, they’d just taken the world by storm; surely they were allowed to feel proud?

 

“I love you guys,” John blurted out. Unlike the early days, he didn’t blush when he said it. “I love you guys so much.”

 

“Love you too, Deacs,” Roger said.

 

“I love you idiots,” Brian said happily.

 

Freddie reached across to poke John on the nose, beaming. “You know I love you all to bits.”

 

John snuggled in closer, unable to keep the smile off his face. He was knackered, no denying; he hoped he could squeeze a nap in before they had to go back on stage. But more than anything, he was happy, riding high on the success of the day, still excited.

 

And he wondered just what he and his boys could pull off next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters to go!


	23. Brian: Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have agreed to the movie, but they can't help but worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters to go! Originally it was just gonna be one more, but I have one more Roger idea so...Whoops.

**2017** **  
** **_“We're one of a kind, no category; too many years lost in history. We're free to take our crowning glory for five more minutes. We're Six!” -Six,_ ** **Six: The Musical**

 

Well, they’d done it. They’d signed the deal; Fox officially had permission to make a movie about  _ Queen. “Bohemian Rhapsody”  _ they wanted to call it. At long last, they’d been presented with a script they could get behind; one that didn’t make Prenter seem like a victim, one that didn’t portray Freddie as a brainless slut, one that didn’t portray EMI like the good guys.

 

It was a truthful enough script, Brian supposed. A lot was condensed, moved around or cut out...But for the most part he was happy.

 

He was still nervous.

 

A movie. Sure, it could go well. Their fans had been desperate to know why  _ Queen  _ had kept saying no at first. It seemed like people were eager for it. But...Still. He knew this could go badly. There was no guarantee they’d get a director that would actually  _ listen  _ to them. And, Christ, who would play them? The thought of some arrogant pricks waltzing in just looking for another paycheck made Brian feel sick. This was his  _ life,  _ his friends lives; this  _ mattered  _ to him. He really wanted it to go well.

 

“Well, guess we’re in it now,” Roger said. They were all at Brian’s house; Deacy was still looking anxiously at the phone, like he expected the Fox executives to call back and renege on their deal. Freddie alone looked unbothered, but Brian knew him too well; he could see the anxiety swimming in his eyes.

 

“Fuck, I hope this works out, darlings,” Freddie blurted out, confirming Brian’s suspicions.

 

“Well, nothing can be worse than that first script idea,” Roger said, scowling. Brian shuddered in remembrance; the first “great” idea Fox had, had basically been a porno. A stereotypical porno at that; they basically wanted two hours of Freddie being pounded by every Alpha he saw-  _ including  _ Roger, despite the fact that everyone  _ knew  _ they’d never actually dated now. It had included a whole lot of “Please, Alpha” and “Thank you, Alpha” and the descriptions of how much slick was involved made Brian’s stomach turn.

 

Roger had nearly torn up that script. Freddie threatened to use it in his cats’ litter boxes. Deacy nearly threw it in the fire. Brian penned Fox a long email about how that most certainly would  _ not  _ be happening, thank you and goodbye; they weren’t interested.

 

Fox didn’t get the hint; they sent them a new script. It wasn’t a trashy porno, but it made Brian pull his hair out. The new movie idea  _ glorified  _ Omega discrimination; it made Freddie look like every stereotypical “bad” Omega that needed to be reigned in. It made Prenter’s attempted assault look justified.

 

Roger tore that one up. It had upset Freddie terribly; Brian hadn’t seen him so worried about what people thought of his Omega status in  _ years.  _ This time, as Brian tried to calm Freddie down, Deacy wrote Fox to tell them bluntly to leave  _ Queen  _ alone. If they wanted to make a porno or objectify Omegas they could come up with some fictional characters, they were to leave his pack out of it.

  
  


Then Fox sent them another rough script, one that was a little closer to the truth...Except for the fact that it painted Prenter as a victim and Foster and Sheffield as some poor misunderstood geniuses. Freddie nearly burned that one. Roger threatened to fly over to the States and give the bastards a piece of his mind in person. Fed up, Brian wrote to Fox again, threatening to set Miami on them if they didn’t take a hint and leave them alone. Unless they wanted to make a truthful movie,  _ Queen  _ wouldn’t consent to their name being used.

 

For a while all talk of a movie ceased. An executive emailed Miami to pass along his apologies for upsetting the band. That seemed to be the end of it.

 

Then they were sent a new script; one that was truthful enough. It even briefly included Dazmen Yazadi. It was honest about Prenter and EMI. It was honest about Omega discrimination. 

 

After weeks of debating,  _ Queen  _ finally agreed to the film.

 

And now Brian was nervous. Now he could see that his boys were nervous.

 

“If they fuck this up I’m flying over there to kick their asses,” Roger grouched.

 

“Slow down old man,” Deacy said with a teasing smile. “Sure your back can handle it?” Roger threw a pillow at him; laughing, Deacy caught it. Well, it worked; it broke the tension.

 

“Behave children,” Brian said. Smiling, he jerked his head at the stairs. And they got it. Of course they did.

 

Minutes later they found themselves crowded together on Brian and Anita’s bed. He’d long since lost count of how many times they’d done this. He’d stopped counting all the reasons why they needed it a long time ago. He’d never really questioned it. It was just...What they did. It helped ground them. It made them feel safe when they needed it.

 

And right now, they needed it.

 

Brian found himself cuddling Deacy, who had Freddie tucked under his free arm. As per usual, Roger held Freddie close. Smiling, Brian threw a long arm over them all, clasping Roger’s hand. Their legs were all tangled and Brian knew it’d take a while to get up when they’d eventually had enough.

 

They weren’t those nervous, bright-eyed kids anymore, and God that was still so  _ weird  _ to him. Where had the years gone? In so many ways he still felt like that shy, nervous young man. In so many ways, who he’d been felt like a stranger.

 

“Wonder who they’ll get to play us?” Deacy asked; he closed his eyes, clearly ready to take a nap.

 

“Better be someone good,” Roger said. “And whoever plays me better be gorgeous, that can be my one condition.”

 

“Yes, Rog, you’re beautiful,” Freddie laughed.

 

“God, you’d actually use your one veto for that, wouldn’t you?” Brian asked. Roger only smirked at him; Brian rolled his eyes, far too used to him, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

 

Well, after everything else they’d gone through over the years, a movie wasn’t going to be what broke them. 

 

Still, he prayed it’d go well. 

 

Though really, he had to admit they’d be hard to pin down; they didn’t exactly fit in any one category.

 

_ “Every band’s not  _ Queen, _ ”  _ Deacy said proudly all those years ago, and he’d been right. Every band wasn’t  _ Queen;  _ they were one of a kind. 

 

And lying there with his boys, his pack, Brian wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little do you know, Brian. Little do you know.


	24. Freddie: Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Freddie has an anxiety attack at the studio the boys head to the Garden Lodge for a rest; Maeve wants to join in. Freddie can never say no to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe there was a request for Maeve to join a cuddle pile? Here we are!

**1992** **  
** **“** **_We keep this love in this photograph. We made these memories for ourselves. Where our eyes are never closing, hearts are never broken, and time's forever frozen still. So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans, holding me closer 'til our eyes meet. You won't ever be alone.” -Photograph,_ ** **Ed Sheeran**

 

Sometimes, Freddie’s anxiety still spiralled out of control. There was no rhyme or reason to it; it just happened.

 

Today was just one of those days. He’d woken up feeling anxious and it only got worse as the day wore on. Finally, around lunchtime, he’d broken down. He hadn’t been able to keep pretending he was okay. He’d collapsed into the nearest seat, unable to breathe, unable to see straight. It had taken nearly ten minutes to calm him down.

 

“Right, fuck this,” Roger said, still holding onto him. “We’re taking you home.”

 

“I’m fine,” Freddie protested weakly. He was still in tears.

 

“Fred, we’re not about to let you push yourself,” Brian said. He went and gathered all their coats. “C’mon then.” He smiled and added, “Cuddle pile?”

 

And, well, that did sound great.

 

So here they were, lounging on Freddie and Jim’s huge bed. Freddie was in between Brian and Roger; Brian spooned him, Roger held him to his chest and Deacy spooned Roger, reaching out to stroke Freddie’s hair off his face. Despite Freddie’s protests, Brian called Jim. His husband said he was collecting Maeve from her friend Shauna’s house, but he’d be home soon enough. 

 

Typically after his panic attacks, Freddie needed a nap. Now was no exception. He dozed off within minutes and awoke to the front door opening, to Maeve shouting, “Papa, I’m home!”

 

He could hear Jim calling after her, telling her to wait, Papa wasn’t feeling well- but there was no stopping Maeve when she got excited. She burst into the bedroom and flung herself onto the bed, giggling.

 

“Hi, Papa!” she said brightly. She looked around at them all. “Can I cuddle too?”

 

The others looked to Freddie questioningly; Freddie smiled and nodded, so Roger scooted back, allowing Maeve to squeeze in between himself and Freddie. Maeve squirmed closer to Freddie, clinging to his shirt.

 

_“Maeve!”_ Jim came running in. “Sorry, Freddie, I can take her.”

 

“It’s fine,” Freddie said above Maeve’s protests that she didn’t  _ want  _ to leave.

 

“You’re sure?” Jim asked worriedly. 

 

In response, Freddie cuddled Maeve tighter, raising a challenging eyebrow. Roger snickered. Deacy said, “Better do what he says Jim.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes. As he made his way to the door, he said, “I’m making lunch.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Freddie started, but Jim cut him off cheerfully; “You need to eat, you know that; I’m making lunch.”

 

“Make pancakes, Daddy!” Maeve called after him, causing Brian to chuckle. She looked up at Freddie with a big smile. “You okay, Papa? Daddy said you’re not well.”

 

“Hm, I’m feeling better,” Freddie said, resting his chin on top of her head. And it was true, he was feeling better. He couldn’t help but smile when she was around. She drove him batty sometimes, yet she always knew how to make him laugh.

 

Settling down again, Freddie said, “Love you, Maevie.”

 

“Love you too, Papa!” she said cheerfully. And then, “Oh no, I love you too Uncle Roggie- and you, Uncle Brimi and Uncle Deacy! I just love Papa best. Sorry.”

 

That had Deacy trying to muffle his laughter in a pillow; Brian said, “Yeah, that’s fair.” Roger grinned, ruffling her hair.

 

And Freddie smiled down at her, kissing her forehead.

 

“I love you best too, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanna make Freddie smile? Simple, go get his kid, it works wonders.


	25. Roger: My Love, My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before their first BBC appearance the boys are too nervous to sleep; a cuddle pile is in order as they pass the night wondering how far they'll go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cuddle piles are complete! Thanks to everyone who has read, left kudos and/or commented so far. I hope you've enjoyed the fluff.

**1974** **  
** **_“I’ve never felt this strong. I’m invinsible, how could this go wrong? No, here- here’s where we belong. I see a road ahead I never thought I would dare to thread. Like an image passing by; my love, my life. In the mirror of your eyes. My love, my life. I can see it all so clearly, all I love so dearly.” -My Love, My Life,_ ** **Mamma Mia 2 (cover)**

 

Roger couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. They were going to be on the BBC tomorrow. He and his boys,  _ Queen,  _ they were actually going to be performing on TV.  _ Killer Queen  _ had shot straight up the charts. People were talking about them. People were really taking an interest now.  _ This was actually happening. _

 

It felt almost like the calm before the storm; they were in his and Brian’s room. They’d pushed the beds together, as per usual. Brian lay flat on his back, Deacy tucked under his left arm, Roger under his right. Freddie was curled up in a little ball, partially on top of Roger. They clung together tightly, too nervous to sleep, too excited.

 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Brian said, slightly breathless.

 

“We’ll knock them dead,” Freddie said with such confidence that Roger believed him.

 

“‘Course we will,” Roger said. “We’ll be bigger than  _ The Beatles.  _ We’ll each have a socking great mansion with servants to attend to our every whim.”

 

“We’ll go on world tours,” Brian chimed in. “There’ll be shirts with our faces on them.”

 

“We’ll have sold out concerts,” Deacy said; he leaned up slightly to grin at them all. “Maybe we’ll even play at Wembley!”

 

“We’ll change the world,” Freddie said quietly, with that simple confidence, that shimmer in his eyes, that made Roger believe everything he said, that made Roger want to stay by his side for the rest of time.

 

“They’ll love us,” Roger said firmly. If they said it enough times maybe it would all come true. Deacy lay back down with a happy little hum. Brian’s grip on them tightened. Roger wound a lock of Freddie’s hair round and round his finger; Freddie reached up to grip his hand tightly. Their eyes locked; Freddie smiled sweetly, eyes shining and Roger grinned, unable to help it.

 

“I love you guys,” he said. “Seriously, I do.”

 

“We love you too, Rog,” Freddie said.

 

One by one the others drifted off; Deacy mumbled in his sleep from time to time. Brian occasionally twitched or snored. Freddie let out those little kittenish, snuffling sounds, still holding Roger’s hand.

 

Roger lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He was scared, he was excited, he was all jumbled up, still in shock. They really seemed to be going places now.

 

Well, so long as he had his boys with him he could do anything.

 

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep; he awoke to the alarm going off, to Brian bustling about, chirping, “Up, up, up!” and Freddie groaning tiredly. But eventually, they managed to crawl out of bed and force some breakfast down.

 

Finally, washed, dressed and gorgeous they lingered in the living room.

 

“Ready?” Freddie asked.

 

Brian nodded. “Ready.”

 

Deacy smiled, bouncing on his toes. “Let’s do this.”

 

“Ready, Freddie,” Roger teased with a grin. He poked Freddie with his drumstick, grabbed the car keys and led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still to come in this series:  
> 1) the rest of the BoRhap snippets.  
> 2) some peeks at Freddie and Roger's pretend relationship.  
> 3) Jim vs Paul  
> 4) the finale.

**Author's Note:**

> It's about time I gave their little pack the attention it deserves. Get ready for fluff!


End file.
